The next morning was bright and clear, with the sun shining through the trees and painting the camp in gold. When Greg woke up, he saw that both Marina and Lylia had moved closer during the night, and their bedrolls were almost touching his.
Marina's arm was around his chest. Lylia's head was resting on his shoulder.
He was stuck.
Trapped in every way possible.
He also desperately needed to use the restroom.
Greg's horror grew as he realized that this was a preview of his whole future.
He whispered "Help" to the whole universe.
Felix opened one eye from his bedroll, looked around, gave Greg a thumbs up, and then rolled over and went back to sleep.
There was no help coming.
Greg accepted his fate and tried to figure out how to get out without waking either woman.
He failed in a big way.
Marina mumbled, "Mmm, good morning," but didn't move her arm. "Soft pillow."
"Greg?" Lylia blinked awake and then seemed to realize where her head was.
