The alarm goes off. Barry sits up immediately, surprising the figure buried in the sheets next to him. Groggily, Lup shifts the covers to squint up at him, watching as he puts on his glasses to check the smaller date display on the digital clock.
"What's up with you?" she asks, stretching.
"Time loop," says Barry, setting the clock down and putting his forehead in his hands. "It's, uh, it's full-on Fantasy Groundhog Day for me."
"Aw, shit," says Lup, because he doesn't seem like he's joking, and because they've both dealt with more than their fair share of time-looping shenanigans.
She finally sits up, more awake from her concern. "And you're not already up-n-attem trying to find your way out of it? What cycle is it?"
"Seventy."
"FUCK!" she yells instantly, and he starts laughing. "Shit! You mean I missed number 69? This sucks!"
"If it makes you feel any better, we actually, uh, we really tried to end it on that one. Had a great idea got all our planning done, executed it perfectly. It just, uhh, didn't-- it didn't work, apparently?"
"That does make me feel a little better, weirdly. Even though that also sucks, big time, and I'm so sorry."
And she locks her hand in his and stands up.
"Alright, babe, let's do this. Gimme the list of everything you've tried."