The sweet melodies of the morning birds roused me from my sleep, just a few minutes before my alarm. What a far more delightful and soothing wake-up call they provided. As the sun's rays pierced through my eyelids, my eyes squinted in response. I stretched lazily, relishing the softness of the bed beneath me and the warmth of the covers enveloping me. A yawn escaped me, accompanied by a tinge of regret and disbelief that I had to abandon such cozy bliss. How utterly absurd. Yet, even as that thought crossed my mind, my legs instinctively stretched again, preparing to abandon the comfy sanctuary.
Beside me, you stirred, and a hand stealthily sought mine, encircling me with its gentle grip. A murmur reached my ears, but I feigned ignorance, already trying to shift away from temptation. Unperturbed, the grip tightened, and the murmur grew louder and more distinct.
"Stay with me just a little longer," you pleaded.
A soft laugh escaped my lips, familiar with the routine yet still endeared by it.
"I would love to, but the work won't do itself," I replied.
The hand refused to release its grip, now tinged with a touch of desperation. Your body inched closer to mine, the searing heat intensifying my longing. I couldn't resist; I shifted to my side, bringing my face close to yours. Your eyes remained closed, not yet awake but alert.
"Just a little longer. It's so warm. I am so warm," you murmured.
I pressed closer, seeking to reassure you, even though a part of me recognized it as part of our morning play.
"I know, but who will try to get us breakfast? Did we get a butler?" I asked, playfully.
There was a moment of hesitation, just as I had anticipated. A smile played upon my lips. Oh, my darling.
But today, your hand persisted, signaling that it would be one of those days. I cherished those moments the most.
"We can do it later. Let's just stay here a little longer," you suggested.
I scoffed but found myself gradually settling in. Why would anyone willingly abandon this haven, I pondered. It was a perfect morning. Made perfect by the familiarity of our dance— a blend of novelty and nostalgia, like a sacred ritual.
"Your stomach will start growling, and I won't have time to prepare anything as I'll be running late for work," I cautioned.
Your hand ventured beneath my shirt, playfully tracing circles on my stomach. A giggle escaped my lips. Your eyes opened, face finally breaking into a beautiful wide coy grin.
"It will be okay.”
I gazed into your eyes, losing myself within their warm, brown depths. I couldn't help but contemplate the profound harmonious connection between us. Leaning in, I placed a soft, tender kiss on your lips.
"I love you," I whispered.
You molded yourself to me, your hand caressing my back, pulling me nearer, my face finding my space against your chest.
"Love you too," you whispered back.
We lingered in that embrace, as we often did on countless mornings.
The world could wait for us.
These moments deserved more frequent indulgence.
I arrived at work an hour late, and we both left for work on an empty stomach.
These were the mornings I cherished the most.
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