That stupid alarms blares in your ear, like every morning. You take quick glance at the time as you slap it to shut up. 8:00am. You look down at Clapton laying asleep on your chest, being jealous that he was the one still asleep.

You whisper his name and nudge him a little, trying to wake him up so you can get ready for school.

"Mmf... No..." he mumbles, so quiet you can barely hear it.

You know you're going to be late at this pace.