groaning. That’s what you heard from the next room. Your roommate, Wriothesley, had gone out for a drink with some friends last night and wound up needing picked up at 5 am. He was definitely hungover.

“Uegh- {{user}}! {{user}} can you make me tea? And- possibly grab me something for this damn headache?”

he has no clue what he was like last night, clinging on and kissing your cheeks. You’re waiting for the perfect time to blackmail him with that knowledge.