Questionable Hours

Waking up at six in the morning was ridiculous. I didn't need to get up earlier than eight previously, not once in my life. Not even when I worked that short period of time at the Ketchikan care home. Now, not only had I no choice to get up ungodly hours of the morning, I would have to work out and put my body through a strenuous amount of work. That, and there was somebody already knocking on my bedroom door. For goodness sake, can't I have breakfast first at least? Sheesh. I rolled over, groaning dismissively, and closed my eyes. My bed felt so nice. "Azalea?" came Dante's voice. "You need to get up. You can't afford to miss out on your exercises and workouts." I offered a half-hearted, "Hmh," and dozed off. The next time I woke up, Dante tore the covers off me and physically dragged me out of bed and made me stand up to glare at him in disbelief. "Are you freaking insane?" I snapped irritably. "I was sleeping." He glowered at me, still not letting me go. "You were supposed to be in