As the mattress was lifted and turned, JP’s arm flailed about, catching his fingers on Marshall’s tie. It came off and by the time he fell and hit the ground with a heavy thud, dripping wet and startled, the desk and bed frame in the room had been utterly destroyed by the gravity field that he’d created in his surprise. The bugle music that had been stupidly loud was gone, the phone itself broken in two from the force applied to it. The cracking and splintering of wood was loud enough that it probably woke the person in the room next to him - which was, unfortunately, Juniper.
Untangling himself from the sheet-ball that he’d landed on the floor in, JP stood in front of his handler with sleep-mussed hair, in his boxers and an oversized t-shirt looking distinctly unimpressed.
“What the fuck, Marshall?” He asked, kicking the sheets off his foot and rubbing the back of his neck, calming his racing heart and trying to draw back in the field that was spreading across the room, causing gravity to become distinctly heavier in an outward arc from where he was. “The fuck is wrong with you?”
He’d only fallen asleep at about three thirty and since his alarm clock had been an unfortunate casualty of the shock of being woken up, he had no idea what the time was but it wasn’t all that light outside so what the actual fuck.