Penguins of Madagascar: Moving Situations

Chapter Three

Skipper
I wake up with more light filtering into the room than usual. I yawn, opening my eyes, and stretching slightly. My limbs are a little stiff, making the stretch more impactful than usual but it does help. I prop myself up on my elbows, pressing them into the plush pillows and look at the clock. 9am. Three hours later than usual but I did say we could have the day off training given we still have a lot to do and did a lot yesterday. Still, it is definetely time to get up. I know that but I am still reluctant to get out from under the warm shelter of my duvet. Especially as we brought new pillows and duvets yesterday so this is extremely cozy. Then again if I get up I can have a coffee...Yeah, that is all the motivation I need.

It is still with reluctance that I get out from the warmth and grab a blue shirt and black trousers from my wardrobe, hurrying to put them on so I can get my morning coffee. I am assuming that I am the only one awake given how long yesterday was. I head out of my room, making sure to be quiet as I head down to the living room and kitchen. On the black sofa, with his legs curled beneath him, is the only person awake. His inky hair is even more messy than usual and he is wearing his usual outfit but is barefoot. He doesn't look up as I come in, probably too lost in the pages of the large book balanced on his lap, glasses lopsided as his focus is probably worlds away.
"Hey," I greet. He flinches slightly, glancing up from the pages. "Did you get up usual time?" "Mhm," he replies, pushing his glasses up slightly so they are less lopsided. "Plus I wanted to carry on reading this book."
"Oh, what is it about?" I ask. Am I interested in books? Admittedly, not really. However I do enjoy listening to Kowalski talking about something he is compassionate about. It is one of the times he is more expressive than trying to control his emotions.

"Basically it is a psychological novel about trying to figure out who to trust. However in a world where the protagonist is completely being lied to trusting anyone is impossible. That seems to be the gist so far anyway, it seems pretty good," Kowalski replies, turning the page.
"Sounds it," I say, heading through to the kitchen. I call out a little louder so he can hear. "I am making coffee, want anything?"
"A tea if it isn't too much bother?" he calls back. I roll my eyes. Too much bother indeed. It's a tea, not liquid gold. Honestly, Kowalski really needs some perceptive sometimes. I offered, it isn't like he is ever demanding.

I open the cupboard where Kowalski put the teabags then hesitate. Why does anyone need this kind of variety? There are so many! The entire cupboard is full of them.
"Uh, Kowalski? Which one?" I call.
"Just go with one at the front," he replies. "Or one of them." I look at the options and settle on the basic breakfast tea. Simple enough, especially as I have no clue how he has the other ones but I am certain he has milk with this one. I make it and my coffee then head back to where he is, sitting next to him on the plush sofa. I place the tea in front of him.
"Thanks, Skipper," he says, looking up from the book again with a small smile. I smile back, because something irresistible in life to cheer me up is Kowalski's smile.

I turn on the television, putting some random show on and sitting a little closer to Kowalski. As usual he focuses on the book rather than the show but when I move closer again to look over his shoulder to see how complex this book is he glances up. His bright blue eyes meet mine with a questioning expression. I hadn't realised I had moved quite that close and I really hope I am not blushing as I scoot back a couple of inches.
"Sorry," I say. "Was just looking at your book. It looks really difficult." He smiles slightly and shrugs slightly.
"It is only this overly complicated language with this character's point of view," he replies, tucking his hair behind his ears but the fringe still falls in his eyes. "I mean they are dead. Sort o-" He stops midsentence and his gaze drops to the floor. "Sorry. I was going on again."
"Hey, it's okay," I say. "I don't mind."
"You mind when Rico and Private go on," he points out. Perceptive. Hm. So he can do anything except self perceptive then? He has a point but then again they aren't Kowalski.
"Mm," I agree which is probably quite a safe answer.