3:5

                                    

                                          
The Scorch.
                          
Despite his best efforts, Daniel also ended up falling asleep, in the early hours of the morning when he found his eyes beginning to strain and his head becoming slightly clouded and dazed. 
                          
The surface of the bed was too cushioned, you see. 
                          
A far stretch from the uncomfortable armchair that he has been residing on for the past week. It really did not take long at for the boy to shuffle himself down from a sitting position until his entire body was extended all the way to the bottom edge, where his ankles would gently dangle from the corner. 
                          
It was not until later on the next morning that he finally awoke again. When the sound of something crashing to the floor vibrated through the air, followed by an audible wince, some coarse words, and the faint scuffing of feet.
                          
Still basking in his tipsy state of exhaustion, for a moment, Daniel has absolutely no idea what is going on, or what that booming noise was. With his body still sprawled out over the entirety of the bed, his right leg stretched to the bottom, and his left leg bend and his knee resting an inch or two from the side, the young boy flinches his head up. Squinting his eyes open - only a pinch - he cranes his neck from side to side in search of the disturbance. 
                          
He drags his arms closer to his sides, digging his elbow onto the bed and using them to prop himself up. His nearly closed eyes scan along the side of the room until they land on the sight of Adeline sat on the chair in the corner of the room opposite him. Hunched over and clutching her stomach, she exhales a number of sharp breaths, and a singular long one that melts in with a tiny hum that rumbles from the back of her throat. 
                          
''Addy?'' the boy questions, his voice still hoarse and groggy from hours of no use, and his mind still slightly faded. Tilting his body to the left, he pulls his right arm over, bending his wrist and using the outside of it to rub the lingering sleep from his eyes. ''What the fuck are you doing?''
                          
When Adeline does nothing but groan in response, every ounce of tiredness seems to vanish, and within seconds, he has pushed himself from the bed. Bouncing along the surface a couple of times, he rolls off the side and shuffles his knees on the ground until he reaches her. ''What happened?'' he asks, with his right arm resting on the back of the chair, and his left hand gently cupping her kneecap. ''Are you alright? What the fuck were you trying to do?''
                          
''I'm fine, I'm fine'' Adeline tells him, but the scrunched up expression on her face and the way she struggles to shift herself backwards contrasts heavily with her attempts at reassurance. 
                          
''What happened?'' Daniel asks again, his eyes following her movements as she rolls her head back, squeezes her eyes shut, and tries to re-adjust her position on the chair. 
                          
Of course, the moment he notices her strife, he jumps in to help. Pushing himself from the floor, the young boy steps around behind the chair and loops his hands underneath her upper arms, delicately pulling her back on the seat and ensuring her comfort.
                          
''I'm fine'' she repeats, loosening her arms from her stomach and releasing another harsh breath when she feels one of the stitches in her skin stretching from being dragged along the chair. 
                          
Once she has been carefully re-positioned on the chair, Daniel shifts back to the left-side of her, lowering himself down until his left knee is planted firmly on the ground, and his right foot is sat right next to it. At her words, he tilts his head to the side, rolling his eyes and regarding the girl who is - clearly - in pain. ''That's not what I asked.''
                          
Adeline does not respond to begin with, for she does not think his comment warrants such a thing. But when she turns her head to the side and catches a glance at the expression on the boys face, the young girl realises that he will probably continue to pester her until she does respond. ''I just'' she starts, letting out a small huff, ''I was trying to get up and I tripped over something, that's all.''