Arthur hated the whole damned world. And mornings. And sunlight. And anything that moved. And Hannibal. He hated Hannibal quite a lot.
He supposed he had to give Merlin a free pass for getting him some water the previous night (it had been Merlin, right?), but otherwise, not a single creature living or dead escaped his hatred
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Of course, he was quite aware of Arthur's mood and the cause for it. He knew it was silly, but he couldn't help but smirk.
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Rain or shine, Arthur could always manage sarcasm. He pulled his pillow over his head as well.
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