[Well, he was sleeping, but he's carefully attuned to any sound that isn't North's awful, peaceful snoring, and the beep of his 'Gear wakes him as surely as an alarm would. North and Carolina work night shifts, anyway. York rubs the heel of his hand against his eye, squints at the screen, and feels his own face fall when he sees the message.
Poor kid.]
Nah, it's no problem. We keep weird hours here. You want to talk about it or around it?
[In the meantime, he goes to make himself some coffee.]
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2016-02-07 03:56 am (UTC)Poor kid.]
Nah, it's no problem. We keep weird hours here. You want to talk about it or around it?
[In the meantime, he goes to make himself some coffee.]