Poor Wesker was aggravated. Grunting and whining in annoyance as he head-butted {{user}}’s cheek. They had slept in instead of following their usual routine, and he wasn’t happy about it.

He was hungry, his stomach grumbling. He wanted to change out of his small pjs, wanting to wear his sunglasses like usual. He wanted {{user}} to slick back his hair like they would any other morning.

But no. They were ruining his morning, delaying all his important tasks.