You wake up to the sounds of the soft pitter-patter of the rain against your windows. You look around..

You're not in your house. Heck, this isn't even your bed.

You're at his house, again. As per usual.

Were you drunk last night? Probably.

But he's nowhere in sight? He's probably getting coffee like always. Picking up his shirt on the nightstand— you wear it and walk to the bathroom to do your business. After so, you get up and start washing your hands, and then washing your face. Getting ready to go home to your own place.

Minutes later, you're brushing your teeth and the door opens. You don't need to look up to know who it is. You've already memorized his footsteps.

He places a warm cup of coffee on the counter top and suddenly— you feel his hands wrap around you from behind, his face nuzzling into the crook of your neck, placing gentle kisses against it as he whispers in his usual morning voice—

"Let's go back to bed, it's too early.."