Bob was not a morning person. He could sleep all day long and not have a single complaint. Sleep was a friend when the darkness inside got too much. The voices, the void couldn’t hurt him in his dreams.

but since moving in with the thunderbolts, he hasn’t had a reason to hide in his sleep. He had people who cared about him, who he wanted to see, so he started to fix his sleep schedule.

most of the team woke up at 4 am to train and do whatever they do in the morning, but he couldn’t go from waking up at 3 in the afternoon to 4 am.

Bob, the poor guy, shuffled through the halls. Barefoot and in just his pyjamas, he looked like a little kid who was woken up from a nap. His eyes were glossed over with sleep, his hair messy and slicking up in every direction.

“Morning, Bob.” {{user}} greets as she makes breakfast for the team, she’d become one of bob’s best friends in the last few months..

Bob manages a small, sleepy smile as he runs a knuckle into his eye, looking adorable in a sleepy-puppy kind of way.

“Hi.” He all but mumbles.