Ah ha ha Yuh Yeet ig

Nothing but love

(The lights in the room are dim as beams of the afternoon sun splash against the sheer curtains, threatening to spill in. The soft buzzing from the busy street below can be faintly heard, along with the soft snoring from a man who lays sound asleep, sprawled across his living room couch. This moment of quiet intimacy is abruptly disturbed as the front door to the man's apartment comes swinging open)

MELANY: Michael!!! Wakey wakey dipshit!

(Morgan, having nearly jumped out of his skin, attempts to form cohesive sentences all while trying to not fall off the couch)

MORGAN: Ah!— uh. Crap uh— Mel... what're.... What are you doing here?

MELANY: I came to pick you up! We're supposed to take mom out to dinner. You... DO know what day it is... right?

MORGAN: Yeah uhm... crap— it's uh

MELANY: It's mother's da—

MORGAN: —mother's day! I was.. just about to say that.

MELANY: Don't tell me you forgot

MORGAN: I didn't forget! I'm just... an idiot. I'm sorry.

MELANY: And what were you doing sleeping on the couch? Were you— ... were you watching Lord of the Rings again?

MORGAN: WH— No! I wasn't watching Lord of the Rings again! That would be... dumb...and I wouldn't... do... that...

MELANY: Mhm, riiight— so if I turn on this TV right now. You're telling me that I WON'T find the title screen to lord of the rings on bluray. Is that what you're telling me right now?

MORGAN: ...yes

(Melany reaches for the tv remote on the coffee table, all while making, intense, direct, eye contact)

MORGAN: no.

MELANY: That's what I thought... I'll spare you the embarrassment.

(Melany tosses the remote to Morgan, hitting him the chest, Morgan fumbles around trying to catch it.)

MELANY: Get dressed dork.

  (Morgan scrambles around in his room for a bit, trying to find something that would make himself look presentable. He took a glance at himself in his bedroom mirror... yikes. Did he really look like that? His hair was sticking out in all sorts of different directions, a result from sleeping in a weird position on the couch most likely, and he's positive that was dried up drool on the side of his face. Or maybe it was toothpaste? No, it couldn't have been toothpaste, he hadn't brushed his teeth yet— That's what he was forgetting to do!

  He stepped into his bathroom and splashed his face with some cold water. As he brushed his teeth he continued trying to piece a nice outfit together in his head. Something that said "See mom? I'm doing fine. You definitely don't need to worry about me! I'm a responsible adult!"

   After remembering that the majority of his wardrobe consisted of dumb graphic tees he's had since highschool, he opted to wear the button up shirt that resided at the very back of his closet. He knew it'd be clean, because he'd only wore it once, for picture day in highschool, senior year. Holy crap, he needed to get more clothes.

  After brushing out his hair and slicking it back, he fumbled with the buttons on his shirt for a bit in an attempt to get it on. He looked at himself in the mirror one last time.
 
   He looked... competent. I mean, sure he had faint dark circles around his eyes from marathoning the Lord of The Rings series last night, and yeah the shirt he was wearing fit a little too tight around his arms and upper torso because the last time he wore it was ten years ago—...ten years ago? Holy crap he was getting old. And yeah... maybe he'll never be as good as a man his father was. But he looked... competent enough.