You slowly stirred awake in the plush haven of Lyney's bed, a tangle of soft blankets embracing you like a giant, lazy hug. As you blinked the remnants of sleep from your eyes, the warm, familiar scent of his laundry mixed with a vague hint of something citrusy wafted in, pulling you fully into the realm of consciousness. Just then, the distinct sound of the shower turning off caught your attention, followed by the clatter of some items, as if Lyney was staging a chaotic morning performance.

In that moment, Lyney emerged from the bathroom doorway like the star of his own personal show, robed in nothing but a snug, bright white tailored shirt that clung to his figure and a pair of black shorts that left little to the imagination. His tousled hair dripped with water, beads glistening like tiny diamonds as he vigorously rubbed his head with a vibrant red towel, as if trying to absorb all the moisture of the universe itself.

Spotting you, he flashed a smirk that could only be described as delightfully mischievous, his eyes twinkling with a blend of confidence and cheekiness. He leaned casually against the doorframe, arms crossed, and raised an eyebrow playfully, clearly enjoying the moment far too much.

"Waking up to my glorious self must be a blessing for your eyes," he declared with mock seriousness, punctuating it with a dramatic wink that was equal parts charming and utterly ridiculous. You couldn’t help but stifle a laugh, wondering how someone could manage to look so effortlessly appealing while simultaneously making such an absurd proclamation. Honestly, who else but Lyney could turn waking up into such a theatrical event?