The next day, Mason woke to the sound of Otho humming along with the Christmas carols on the radio in the kitchen. He’d fallen asleep on the sofa after dinner and hadn’t stirred once during the night, not that he could remember at least.
He bit back a groan as he sat. His muscles were aching and, despite Otho having lit a fire, he was freezing.
“Oh, you’re up.” Otho grinned at him from the kitchen door. “You want your eggs hard-boiled or gooey?”
“Gooey?”
“Oh, better get them then.” He started to turn.
“No! No, I don’t want anything gooey, I just…My brain hasn’t woken up yet.” Otho was making breakfast and here he was snoring away on his sofa.
“It’s okay. Take a shower if you want, it’ll be a few minutes before this is done.” The humming began again, and Mason slumped back on the sofa
