(no subject)

[Lockon woke up with an arm sprawled over Tieria, terrible bedhead and about a tenth of the blanket, as he did most mornings these days. He yawned quietly - what time was it, anyway? Far too early - and snuggled closer to Tieria with a gentle nuzzle and a judicious tug of the blanket from wherever Michael was storing it all. (Eventually, he'd cure Michael of that cover-hogging habit. One of these days.)]