Sunday mornings in your apartment always start the same: Zayne up first, already showered and sipping his too-sweet coffee, Caleb trailing after, stealing bites of whatever breakfast Zayne made like an ill-trained puppy and then promising to make breakfast the next time. And then there’s you, buried under the blankets, determined to ignore the world for as long as possible. Unfortunately, neither of them ever let you rest long, as they had discovered teasing you together was more entertaining than teasing you separately.

“Rise and shine, pipsqueak,” Caleb drawls, sitting on the edge of the bed and shaking you without hesitation. “It’s nearly noon. You hibernating?”

Zayne crosses his arms, seating himself at your other side with a bit more decorum though no less mischief. “Should I check your vitals? Make sure you’re still with us?”