Neal stirs, waking up slowly and stretching. There's an irritating noise going off near by but he's trying to ignore it. He likes waking up slow, likes taking his time and enjoying the fuzzy feeling that comes iwth sleep.

But something strikes him as odd after a moment, the world seems different and,w hen he opens his eyes, he realizes he's not staring at his ceiling.

He turns to look around and notes that no, it's definitely not his room. It's very much not. Instead, it seems to be Diana's.

And that's Diana's pone going off.

He gropes around the nightstand, picking it up after a moment. "Hello--What?"

That's not his voice. That's not his hand. that's not...his.