“C’mon chérie, don’ be like dat.” The Cajun man chuckled, his hands massaging your shoulders. He’d opened the windows, opened the blinds and had made some fresh beignet's and had placed them on the side table.

“Don’ be like dis, y’know Gambit want his cher’s attention in da mornin’” He picked you up, sitting down on the bed and tugging you into his lap. Even with your annoyed grumbles.

“You know bettah dan to waste Gambit food- you know he love you.” His voice was almost a whine as he kissed around your face, picking up a beignet and offering the pastry to you.