Through a lax gaze, Axe was the last thing Nit saw, felt, and heard before they completely knocked out. They were still quiet as they attempted to reciprocate, lazy arms coiling themselves around Axe's slim yet mesomorphic form. What felt like an expiratory reserve, air, traveled in a smooth sigh from their maw right onto Axe's fuchsia mane. For the most part, they were pretty still, the ticking being the only noise plus minimal shifting courteous of them. They kept Axe close the entire time, her head fitting snuggly on their chest and their viscous body being surprisingly gentle as cool slime clung to her. Its coolness plus her warmth likely brought about a rather comfortable feeling, even with the blubbery beast rolling around on occasion.<br/><br/>Still it was for ten hours. Ten long hours was the creature's slumber, two hours shorter than it should have been but a prolonged rest regardless. Whether or not Axe was still asleep would not drastically effect what would occur next. Something that would ward off the stillness until the following night.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">BRRRRRIIII!</span><br/><br/>It was twelve o'something when those bells shrilled. Said shrill was louder than usual, perhaps to make sure that Nit was very much awake. Like a cowardly soldier hearing the scream of the distant warning siren, the clock scrambled viciously but momentarily, nearly flinging the bedsheet off of the bed before ceasing, assuming the fetal position on their stomach. After a few moments of groaning into the pillow, Nit's hands shakily inched towards the cylindrical button atop their head, pressed it, and halted the blares. They continued to assume their position, frozen in embarrassment from what they have done. This was something that happened far too often to be considered funny by any means.<br/><br/>After breaking free from the cold grasp of their coyness, Nit grumbled softly as usual of them, reaching for the hoodie they placed on the bed last night. They put it on. No checking for stains. No showering. Nothing that showed any regard for how they appeared. This would not go well where they came from, but this was the Victors' household; conservatism is practically nonexistent.<br/><br/>Suddenly, in an act of slothfulness, Nit flopped over on their side like a frightened goat. Sleeping for ten hours was a terrible idea, their subconscious growled. The original plan was to wake up early to spend more time with their lover and, if their newly gained heart was still there, visit Marcial at the hospital. But to hell with that; Nit was consumed by their indolence, and unless someone hauled their fat out of the bed, they were going straight to the fifth circle later on. They would be going there either way, but it was best not to add insult to injury like they were now. Their pink feet were already hoisted on the poor nightstand while the rest of their body, now laying right on their back remained sprawled on the more unfortunate bed. With their current state of mind, foggier than a cheesy horror flick, they did not care who saw them like this.