Beep. Instantly, Vladimir was awake. It took only once for the alarm to go off, and he was awake. He blinked and rolled over, turning to face the desk on which the beeping alarm sat. From there, he looked at Anatoly... waiting for him to get the alarm.
Anatoly groaned, eyes squinting at the beeping alarm. He made a face and rolled over, jaw muscles tightening the longer it went off.
Vladimir huffed quietly and frowned at his brother's inaction. He pulled a pillow from beside himself and chucked it at Anatoly.
Anatoly puffed, the pillow hitting him in the head. He reached for it, grabbing it in one hand. Anatoly growled, climbing from the bed muttering about brothers and mornings.
Vladimir laughed then smiled—rather evilly—as he watched Anatoly move out of bed. Feeling like he'd won a small battle, Vlad then decided to sit up. "You've gotten old and slow, my brother." Vladimir's voice was amused.
Anatoly looked back with a frown, just after turning it off. "And you have not changed."
"No..." Vlad smirked and stood up. He crossed the room, patted Anatoly's shoulder, then moved to the closet. After a short search, he located a shirt and pulled it on. He ran a hand through his hair, spiking it back up.
Anatoly shook his head, calling a name out after his brother. He grabbed his shirt from where he left it, tugging it on.
With a snort, Vladimir returned with a different—yet equally offensive—name. He frowned momentarily, thinking about the "deal" they were going to make with Fisk.
