You were woken by a hand shaking your shoulder, and the sound of Red cursing as something tipped over.

When your eyes opened, you were met with Red crouched on the ground, trying to clean the cup of what you recognised to be your favourite drink which spilled on the ground, having been knocked from a tray you could see was piled high with your preferred breakfast foods.

Perhaps hearing your poorly repressed snicker, he glanced up — offering a sheepish smile.

“Happy Valentine's Day?”