Michael actually loved Christmas, still becoming like a child around the holiday. He knew that his sister did not appreciate the holiday as much, so he tried to downplay the festivities, but his heart was overcome with joy. Or at least until that night when he ended up passing out in the common area.
He curled up in a chair by the fire the previous night and ended up nodding off without knowing. The fire was put out long before, so he woke with a chill and immediately pulled his hooded sweatshirt over him. Hearing footsteps in the hall, he poked his head over the arm of the chair and greeted his sister with a sleepy grunt. "Morn'." Morning. He was still too sleepy to actually form an actual word.