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Summary
The window next to them was open, so Wilbur’s curly hair was a bit messier than usual at this point. He was using a random sweater as a makeshift pillow. It was folded rather impressively, and it made Q wonder just how often he did things like this.
His lips were slightly parted and occasionally his eyelids would flutter in his sleep. Clearly he was dreaming. He was soundless minus the small sharp breath that he would take, the hands on his lap twitching whenever he did.
That was when Quackity noticed.
~Or~
Wilbur's passed out and Quackity wants some of that-