And the Seconds Still Keep Going

An incredibly short piece that I might rewrite later. Just got inspired randomly, and decided, "Hey, why not.".
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It was evening, with the warm, silky sunlight slipping past the silhouettes of tall, proud trees and magenta and royal purple hills that lined the distance. Birds were chirping and whistling, hurrying back home to reunite with their family, and their comfy nest. The people were all indoors by now, laughing and chatting casually over hot, steamy plates of food and icy bowls of sweet, sticky ice cream. Children were telling their parents about their day with lively animations, while others were simply enjoying some relaxation after a long day. A gentle summer breeze strolled through the streets, between the yellow and blue street lights, and through welcoming windows. The city was at peace.

But warmth never reached the dorm of F241.

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Tick.
Tock.
Tick.
Tock.
Tick.
Tock.
Tick. 
Tock.

Slowly, every so slowly, one eyelid was heavily raised to reveal a single, blank dark green eye. Sliding his gaze to the clock ticking away by itself up on the wall, the eye opened up a bit more to focus.

9:47

Ah.

So he slept the entire day. Oh well. Giving out a soft groan, the body rolled from the bed onto the ground with a thump that was muffled by the many blankets and pillow strewn about. Shakily, he managed to stand up by applying all his weight onto his desk. With his free hand, he grabbed the bottle of water, and chugged what remained down. Blinking a few times, he looked at the clock once more, mesmerized by the repetitive clicking noise of the second hand as it just ticked on and on and on. It was, for some reason, soothing. The only noise he had heard for days, other than the occasional slam of a car door down below. Carelessly tossing the empty plastic bottle behind him, he trudged back to his bed a few inches away, walking as though the gravity had increased by a threefold. Once his knees hit the cold wooden frame, he let himself loose, and collapsed onto the messy bed with a flurry of blankets and pillows bouncing up in his wake.

Turning so he was curled up into himself, the dead green eyes lazily focused on the second hand of the clock again.

Tick. Tock. Tick.

9:48

Time to go back to sleep, he guessed.

One pale, skinny arm shot out from under his body to latch onto one of the grey blankets, and reeled it back in to drape over his stomach. Lifting his head onto a grey pillow, the green eyes closed slowly again.

9:49

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The slivers of sunlight were gone now, and in their place were a multitude of tiny, sparkling stars that glittered across the deep, rich, blue sky that blanketed the city. Hot and steamy plates of food were now scraped empty, and icy, cold bowls of sticky, sweet ice cream had long stopped melting. A gentle summer breeze strolled down the abandoned sidewalks, and weaved between the yellow and blue beacons that lighted the way along the empty streets. The city was happy.

But not the person in dorm F241.