If This Is A Dream, Don't Wake Me
WHO: Ludwig and Feliciano
WHEN: Monday morning, 7/12
WHERE: The house Nonno bought them, Feliciano’s bed
WHAT: Britannia Angels wishew magic works! Cuddling in bed~*~*~*~*
RATING: WAFF for Warm And Fuzzy Feelings~*~*~*~*
Feliciano groaned and shifted in his sleep, pouting at the annoying blare of his alarm clock. He didn’t want to get up, he wanted to keep sleeping and try and forget about the last few days and how Ludwig had awkwardly refused his request to sleep together last night, saying it was inappropriate to share a bed. It had taken forever and half to get to sleep, afraid of every creak the house made and the suddenly demonic sounding chatter from his pets down the hall.
He reached an arm from his nest of blankets (and a nest it was with blankets just tossed and jumbled everywhere from where he‘d kicked them off during the night, twisting and turning), patting around on the bedside table for the alarm. Just out of reach. He wiggled his fingers like it’d bring the clock closer, it didn’t. Whining under his breath the Italian cracked an eye open, starring at the blinking alarm blearily. It was taunting him. Stupid thing. He tried to shift forward only gaining another inch or so before he was stopped by a weight on him.
Weight… Why was there a weight on him? How had he not noticed an arm slung around his waist before, tugging him back against a broad chest and legs tangled with his own? Feliciano blushed and tried to twist in the grip, hoping to God that some weirdo (or Gilbert) hadn’t snuck into his room while simultaneously thanking God he‘d decided to go to bed in a pair of boxers last night instead of his usual birthday suit.
He couldn’t slip or turn in the grip, and if anything he was pulled tighter against the person - man, he corrected himself with a blush - behind him. “U-umm, w-wake up, ve?” he tried softly, still squirming. It wasn’t like he could shake his captor’s shoulder, hopefully words would be enough.
WHEN: Monday morning, 7/12
WHERE: The house Nonno bought them, Feliciano’s bed
WHAT: Britannia Angels wishew magic works! Cuddling in bed~*~*~*~*
RATING: WAFF for Warm And Fuzzy Feelings~*~*~*~*
Feliciano groaned and shifted in his sleep, pouting at the annoying blare of his alarm clock. He didn’t want to get up, he wanted to keep sleeping and try and forget about the last few days and how Ludwig had awkwardly refused his request to sleep together last night, saying it was inappropriate to share a bed. It had taken forever and half to get to sleep, afraid of every creak the house made and the suddenly demonic sounding chatter from his pets down the hall.
He reached an arm from his nest of blankets (and a nest it was with blankets just tossed and jumbled everywhere from where he‘d kicked them off during the night, twisting and turning), patting around on the bedside table for the alarm. Just out of reach. He wiggled his fingers like it’d bring the clock closer, it didn’t. Whining under his breath the Italian cracked an eye open, starring at the blinking alarm blearily. It was taunting him. Stupid thing. He tried to shift forward only gaining another inch or so before he was stopped by a weight on him.
Weight… Why was there a weight on him? How had he not noticed an arm slung around his waist before, tugging him back against a broad chest and legs tangled with his own? Feliciano blushed and tried to twist in the grip, hoping to God that some weirdo (or Gilbert) hadn’t snuck into his room while simultaneously thanking God he‘d decided to go to bed in a pair of boxers last night instead of his usual birthday suit.
He couldn’t slip or turn in the grip, and if anything he was pulled tighter against the person - man, he corrected himself with a blush - behind him. “U-umm, w-wake up, ve?” he tried softly, still squirming. It wasn’t like he could shake his captor’s shoulder, hopefully words would be enough.