[WHOA THE TINY CRACK OF LIGHT IS BECOMING A MEDIUM SIZED CRACK OF LIGHT. WHICH IS THEN BECOMING A LARGE ONE. Funny how that works

As Miguel pulls them both through, clawing through the crevice, what greets them is... softness. The threadcount of luxury bedsheets, and the dimness of an unlit bedroom. And each other's face, with furrowed brows, as though suffering from a bad dream. And in the case of one of them, a hangover.]