Matt had passed out on the couch, which was easier than he thought it would be. The lack of noises around him had made everything feel numb. Foggy's familiar smell lingered until he was too tired to notice it. He always noticed a smell, even in his dreams the smells would play a part. But everything was different now. He had not stopped noticing anything since the accident. Everything was always there.
Matt was a light sleeper, probably because of the strong presence of his surroundings. Whenever something moved, he knew. He would either choose to get up and stay awake or he would try to fall back asleep, which was harder for him than for others.
Matt woke up to a familiar sound that he just couldn't identify. He checked his watch. It was about 1PM. He had no idea for how long he had slept, since he had no idea what time he had actually fallen asleep.
It takes him a while to balance himself on the couch as he's sitting up. He feels for his glasses, but they're not there. Did he take them off last night? He doesn't remember.
He feels a blanket covering his legs. It's a cotton blanket. The fabric usually bothered him because of his sensitive skin, but he doesn't mind right now. It doesn't feel rough at all.
He gets up slowly, still unable to balance himself in this sleepy mood with his numbed senses. He almost loses his balance and puts his hands out, hoping there's something there to steady him. His left hand hits the surface of the table just before his right hand does. When his right hand touches down, he feels something break underneath it. A piece of glass is stuck in his hand and Matt lets out a groan of pain.
"Matt?!" Foggy yells, from another room in the house.
"F- Foggy?" Matt says, hearing his voice like a muffled sounds.
"Matt are you okay?" Foggy sees the glass in Matt's hand, "Oh, shit,"
"Foggy, what is this?"
"I, uh, I took off your glasses and put them on the table when you fell asleep on my couch..."
Matt feels a little bit of a lump in his throat because of all that is happening. He's at Foggy's place, he realizes. He also realizes that he doesn't know Foggy's place as well as he thought he did. He puts out his left hand behind him, feeling for the couch he got up from.
When Foggy is done taking out the glass of his hand, putting a bandaid around it the best he could, he looks up at Matt's face. His eyes were moving from one place to another, as if they were searching for something. He would offer him his sunglasses but he doesn't want to make Matt feel uncomfortable. He'll wait until he asks for it.
"Hey Matt," Foggy starts.
Suddenly Matts gaze is pointed towards Foggy's face and he seemed relieved to have something to focus on.
"What happened?"
Matt's relieved expression turned to worry as Foggy asked the question. He couldn't go with the spins anymore. Not still, a morning later. He felt guilty for not wanting to tell Foggy, but he was sure that if he did tell him, he'd feel betrayed.