The gentle rocking of the boat had kept Asher in bed a lot later than he was accustomed to, and he might had stayed that way for an hour or two longer if it hadn't been for the sun streaming in through the porthole beside him. He tried pulling the covers up over his head but that made him too hot, and draping an arm over his eyes wasn't all that comfortable a position.

Grumbling quietly at the back of his throat, he eventually conceded to the idea that fighting it wasn't going to get him anywhere; he was awake. It wasn't until he stretched and his elbow nudged against something solid that his eyes finally opened slowly, blinking a few times before they focused properly.

Suddenly, the sun in his eyes was the very least of his problems.

Yelling was followed by scrambling, which was quickly followed by groaning as Asher had managed to scramble himself right off the foot of the bed in all of his flailing and commotion. "What the fuck?!" He hissed pulling a fucking shoe out from under himself. And it wasn't even his shoe!

It did make for an excellent projectile, though, so he threw it from his awkward position of the floor and just hoped it connected with Vecchio.