"Noah—hey, get up." Richard's deep, perpetually gruff voice brought Noah's hazy attention to him. The tank of a man was stooped over Noah in his bed, his icy blue gaze suggesting he had been trying to wake the boy up for some time now.
"'m up," Noah managed to mutter as he lazily pushed himself up and ran a hand through his haphazardly bleached curls.
"You said that twenty minutes ago."
He couldn't recall. In a yawn, Noah asked the man, "What time is it?"
The number alone woke the boy up well enough as he asked incredulously, "At night?" He looked towards the window, partially covered by tattered blue curtains, to see what could easily have been dusk approaching.
Just as quickly, Noah reverted back into a tired stupor and flopped his head back onto his pillow, drawing up the blankets as Richard took hold to stop him from doing so. "Richard," He griped, "This is bullshit."
"I know," Richard nodded with all the patienc