Morning hit Amara like a brick to the face. She groaned, her hand blindly reaching for her phone on the nightstand, only to knock it to the floor with a loud thud.
"Great start," she muttered, peeling her eyes open. Sunlight filtered through the blinds, far too cheerful for her current mood.
From the living room came the unmistakable sound of Felix singing—or attempting to sing—what sounded like My Heart Will Go On. Off-key.
Amara winced. "Why is he still here?"
Dragging herself out of bed, she shuffled into the living room, where Felix stood holding a spatula as a makeshift microphone. He was still in last night's clothes, and somehow, he'd managed to get pancake batter smeared across his shirt.
"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty!" he said, grinning.
Amara pinched the bridge of her nose. "Felix, why are you still here? And why does it smell like something's burning?"
Felix's grin faltered. "Oh. Uh… that might be the pancakes."
