The blaring of the alarm cut through the silence like a knife, dragging Damien out of unconsciousness with all the grace of a brick to the skull. His hand shot out on instinct, slamming the clock with unnecessary force before groaning.
"Haaah…"
His body felt like lead. Heavy. Uncooperative. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to close his eyes again, to sink back into the sheets and let exhaustion reclaim him.
Tch.
He clenched his jaw.
"This fucking body…"
The words were a low, irritated mumble as he forced himself upright, gripping his forehead. His head pounded with dull resistance, his limbs sluggish, his very existence protesting against this early awakening. His body—Damien's body—was fighting him, stubbornly clinging to bad habits like an undisciplined child.
