<span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 8pt;">Morning, like a sultry phoenix, ascended from the ashes, ubiquitous the beams of light shined… Gooey cloud blobs drifted, their swollen fluffiness swimming against a blueness. Warm sheets swaddled limp toes; umber curls splayed, a shiny crown, around the slumberous Blaire. Clutching onto a puffy pillow, she grunted, displeasure the heavy sound reverberating within her cloth cave. <br/><br/>Did anyone order a human alarm-clock? Ahh…no. "Gosh, would you wake up already?"<br/><br/>Knees drawing up tighter to the chest--a dazzling yellow sports bra snug against firm breasts, hidden by a male's white beater--above, the half-asleep female could only grumble again.<br/><br/>"Bun-bun, don't <strong>make</strong> me come in there and get you!"<br/><br/>Down, down, down went a hand to yank the loose sweatpants off of the modest ass back up towards her naval; checkered boxers still hung out, though the sight was obscured by the wondrous blankets, oh the beautiful, fuzzy blan-<br/><br/>Mind-boggling! The humanoid alarm had some how grown arms, legs, and a recognizable face; it threw off the luscious covers. "<strong>Jesus</strong>! Why are you wearing <span class="bbc_u">my</span> tank top?...Oh god, please tell me those aren't my <strong>boxers</strong>!"<br/><br/>Eyelids finally opening with a slight flutter, Blaire huffed, annoyed eyes tapering while the fair brow knitted into a furrowed forehead.<br/><br/>"Umm…they <em>aren't </em>your boxers?" What a terrible lie.<br/><br/>Dustan easily dismantled the fib, though a faint happiness altered his deep frown. "Yeah, that's what I thought…Do you know it's already two?" He paused briefly, then carried on. "Your class starts around, what, seven, right? Get movin', sweet stuff."<br/><br/>The news had catapulted the upset sibling in the direction of the computer, whereas she struggled, fingers unable to create anything that resembled an essay. <br/><br/>If Blaire turned towards the "illuminated" window--fueled by a flashlight-- or glanced at the real alarm-clock blinking 6:30 a.m., she might have understood the practical joke. <br/><br/>"Heh." The satisfied brother chuckled, gazing at his darling sister; a smile now replaced the menacing grimace. "Maybe you won't wear my shit now, baby."</span><br/>