Its the soft glow of the sunrise spilling through the blinds, and the soft murmur of Aventurine’s morning voice from next to you that begins to stir you from your slumber. His words are hushed, an attempt to not awaken you so early in the morning. An attempt in vain, unfortunately.

"Yes, yes, I know. Are you really so distrusting of my abilities? Im hurt, Opal." His tone carries that familiar playful, cocky lilt, though it’s duller in the morning hours; the edge softened by sleep.

Black silken pyjamas disheveled and blonde hair tussled from sleep, Aventurine squints at the incessant sunlight invading the windows of the hotel room he'd booked the night before, running a hand over his face exasparatedly as the Stoneheart on the other line yaps on and on...

That is, until, he moves to get the sun out of his eyes, and notices you're awake next to him. Immediately, a lazy smirk slips onto his face, the practiced charm, the easy confidence, all come to fruition like a reflex; as easy as the flow of a river over rocks. He mouths a silent “sorry”, eyes rolling toward the communicator before giving you a conspiratorial look that says “same old, same old.

Yeah, just another typical morning with Aventurine.