William had settled down on the other man's bed before he knew it. His head tilted forward, he read the pages of a cheap kind, but the words were still just as good... Just as enthralling as everything else he'd ever read. He wished then that his parents hadn't convinced him to leave his own extensive collection behind. Books were his friends. No human smile to greet him, but thousands of words upon paper to drag him into adventured like none anyone could live in one lifetime. Now those were friends, who could be turned to again and again without fail.

The young man lay back, for once feeling comforted by the action, and not because of the book alone. Was the other man right? No, someone like Angel couldn't be. Snorting at the thought, strawberry blond immersed himself in the words of Hamlet. He drank it all in, without noticing how the time passed.