[ Normally, Bradbury's not the deepest of sleepers himself, at least not unless he's managed to exhaust himself somehow, which he apparently has. The sudden shift of weight against him and that voice are enough to trip warning bells off somewhere in his subconscious, and he frowns, still half-asleep, grumbling out his reply. ]
Make it yourself, asshole. [ A beat. ]
What the fuck? [ Bradbury jolts out of bed like he's been hit by lightning, scrambling out from being half-under Bond and all but falling to the floor -- sadly, taking the sheets with him, even as his knees hit the floor with a thump that makes him curse and sends a gentle wave of pain throbbing right up into his head. ] Shit.
C R Y I N G
Make it yourself, asshole. [ A beat. ]
What the fuck? [ Bradbury jolts out of bed like he's been hit by lightning, scrambling out from being half-under Bond and all but falling to the floor -- sadly, taking the sheets with him, even as his knees hit the floor with a thump that makes him curse and sends a gentle wave of pain throbbing right up into his head. ] Shit.