[It's fine probably because the bed's slowly moving from cold sheets to warm and cozy blankets and the cat's purring above their head. Dave's here and John finally opens an eye half-way to kind of stare at his arm.]
You're late. [It's a petulant kind of mumble and hardly serious at all, but here they are.]
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You're late. [It's a petulant kind of mumble and hardly serious at all, but here they are.]