The morning sun filters through the blinds, casting golden streaks across the sheets. You stir, stretching slightly, only to be met with the warm, solid presence of Mark beside you. His arm is draped over your waist, his grip lazy but firm, keeping you close even in sleep.

You turn slightly, resting your head against his chest, feeling the slow, steady rhythm of his heartbeat. He’s impossibly warm, his body radiating a comforting heat that makes it hard to want to move.

Mark groans softly, shifting, his hold tightening as he buries his face into your hair. “Mmm, no,” he mumbles, voice raspy with sleep. “Not yet.”

You chuckle softly. “Not yet what?”

“Not letting you get up,” he murmurs, eyes still closed, his lips brushing against your forehead. “Stay here. It’s too early to function.”

You lift your head slightly, watching as his dark lashes flutter open, his brown eyes still hazy with sleep. He blinks at you, a slow, lazy smile spreading across his face.

“Morning, baby,” he says, his voice deeper than usual, rough from sleep. His fingers trace light patterns along your back, his touch featherlight but affectionate.

“Morning,” you whisper back, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at the way he’s looking at you—soft, unguarded, like you’re the only thing in the world that matters.

Mark shifts slightly, rolling onto his back and pulling you with him so you’re practically on top of him now. He grins, one hand resting on your waist, the other brushing a strand of hair from your face.

“You look cute all sleepy,” he teases, his thumb grazing your cheek.

You roll your eyes, but before you can respond, he tilts his head up and presses a slow, lingering kiss to your lips. When he pulls back, his smile is softer now, his hand cupping the back of your head.

“Seriously, let’s just stay like this all day,” he whispers, voice drowsy but laced with something tender.