Room 303, Tuesday Evening

After an exhausting day, there was little Arthur enjoyed more than getting to lounge about his thankfully not-an-alcove bed, which was just about as good as the one he had back in Camelot. He was already in his nightclothes by now, and he was fairly sure that whatever happened, he had a good night's sleep coming up on him.

If you didn't know him any better (and most people on the island didn't. Even many who thought they did) you could almost say he was completely back to normal, had put That Weekend out of his mind, and was continuing on as per usual.

You'd be wrong. So would Arthur, who made deluding himself into an art form when he felt like it.

He was just going to concentrate on the whole good night's sleep - have a hunting dog now - nice bed thing. That was about in keeping with his sanity. (That, and considering everything that Reno had put on his mind. It was always nice when life accommodated your denial with more responsibilities)

He wasn't yet aware that in a few short hours, he was going to be bustled out of his room by cranky rodents, no.

[[ door is cracked, post is open! -- and thread with Leto nws. sigh ]]