Who: Sarah and Miguel (and Lyla) When: Morning after this Where: Sarah's apartment What: Station Fuckery Rating: ????? Open: no?
"Miguel."
"mm."
"Miguel. You need to wake up."
"uhhhhm..."
"Miguel O'Hara, wake up now."
"m'dying, lyla, lemme lie in"
"No. You must wake up now."
"m'up, shhhh."
Miguel opened his eyes and winced at the familiar stabby pain of bright light skewering him in the brain through his eyeballs. He fumbled for the nightstand to try and find his glasses, and frowned a bit when they weren't where he normally left them.
"Lyla, lights to 25% please," he muttered, stretching a little and wincing at the pain that that set off in his head.
"I cannot do that, Miguel. This is not your apartment."
That woke him up. He sat up instantly, groaning at the pain in his head, and then remembered a lot after his texts to Sarah. Ooh. Oh, okay.
His clothes lay on the floor beside the bed (Sarah's bed!), actual clothes rather than his spidersuit, so he reached down and carefully grabbed his jeans. Pulling them on, he grumbled as he accidentally put a hole in them with one of his toe-talons, and then stood up, and wished he hadn't. Still, coffee would help, and he'd start feeling better soon enough. He couldn't see his glasses anywhere, so he shielded his eyes and left the bedroom to find Sarah.