Arthur was not always the most elegant to rise.

Especially not when he had someone's hands stuck in his armpits and the blanket was half-off the bed and the usual 'privacy time now' bowl of peanuts outside had frozen overnight (he was going to swear up a storm afterward about having to pay the squirrels extra for the privacy).

"Bloody hell," Arthur said - that was good morning, of a kind. "Who left the window open?"

The lack of lights wasn't nearly as impressive.

[[ to him who is here ]]

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bitchprince

December 2020

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