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Clovis wanted to be asleep forever, yet he never got what he wanted.
Clovis was always asleep, or at least he always LOOKED like he was asleep. Often he drifted through others' dreams to wash away nightmares since that's all he COULD do. He never got sleep himself, though; did anyone wash away his nightmares? Of course not. All he could do was sleep, and sleep, even if it never left him rested.
Clovis woke up after another 'nap' that lasted 3 days. It was normal for him now. No one questioned why Clovis slept for days straight or never left the hypnos cabin. Because when Clovis was asleep, he was taking away people's nightmares. And that's all that really mattered. Clovis just blinked up at the ceiling, praying to his father that he could sleep forever and mumbling something about how 'being awake is so stupid. He sluggishly got up, groaning at how bad his body hurt from the lack of use, since even when he was awake, he was not nearly healthy enough to walk around or train. Clovis just pulled his blanket off his bed and wrapped it around himself as he slid on his slippers. His body groaned at the movement of walking to the door, twisting the doorknob, then walking out and shutting the door behind him.
Ignoring the stares he was given, Clovis walked to the communal bathrooms, which in his opinion sucked. He didn't want to have to interact with people every time he needed to piss. Ew. Clovis groaned as he saw other people were in the bathroom too. He went to a mirror and looked at his face. Great. His piercings were infected again. Well, he couldn't be surprised considering he never bothered to take care of them. Why would he bother? He's always asleep anyway. That's all he will ever be good for. Clovis just walked out of the bathroom. There were too many people; no way he was going to piss with so many people around. He just sluggishly started walking back to his cabin, but alas, of course, he started nodding off halfway there, passing out right in the middle of camp.
Clovis woke up in the infirmary. He grumbles something about 'why am I even here? No one should even care'. He looks up at the ceiling and falls back asleep quickly. Once he was in the familiar black void, he started sifting through dreams one by one. Once he finally found someone's nightmare, he went into it and started looking through it. Once he found the root of the dream, he focused on it, and it slowly dissipated. He continued this for who knows how long until he was too exhausted to do anything. Letting himself finally fade into his own unconscious, he got some rest.
Much to Clovis's distaste, he woke up again. In his own cabin this time. They probably got too annoyed with him just sleeping in the infirmary; who could blame them? Clovis was taking up space where injured people should be. He tried to go to sleep again; alas, he did not succeed. So instead, he sluggishly reached his arm out to the little area between his mattress and bedframe. Feeling the cold, sharp blade in the same place he left it, Clovis sighed in relief. Slowly, he brought it to his wrist, making cuts of different sizes. He didn't care how big, small, deep, or shallow they were. As long as he could feel the sting reminding him he was real, it was okay. He felt the cold, sticky blood on his arm, which made him gag. The feeling only got worse, which eventually made Clovis throw up into his bed. Clovis wanted, no NEEDED, that gross, sticky blood to go away. He couldn't stand feeling it anymore. Grabbing the blade while panicking, Clovis made frantic cuts, desperate for the gross feeling just to be drowned out by pain. He started feeling the sticky liquid pool all around him, soaking into his bed. He started feeling tired. As the screams of campers started echoing through the camp, Clovis weakly swallowed in a breath before letting out his last one.
Clovis wanted to be asleep forever, yet he never got what he wanted. But this time he finally did.