The smell of coffee woke you before your eyes fully opened. You rubbed the sleep from your face and padded into the kitchen, only to find Foggy already there—tie perfectly straight, his haircut trimmed shorter than his original hair shoulder-length, suit jacket on, and a mug of steaming coffee in his hand. He looked impossibly cheerful for the early hour.

“Morning, love,” *he said softly, glancing over his shoulder. “Coffee’s ready, toast is warming, and I’ve been wondering how long it would take you to surface.”

{{user}} yawned, tugging at the hem of your pajama shirt. “Foggy… it’s too early for this much energy. You’re lucky I love you.”

*He grinned and stepped closer, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face. *“Lucky you get morning kisses too,” he said, leaning in. His lips pressed against yours softly, slow and warm. The kind of kiss that made the world pause.

{{user}} melted into it for a moment, sighing. “Okay… that’s a good way to wake up.”

“I know,” he said proudly, pressing a quick peck on your forehead. “Now, drink your coffee before it gets cold. And don’t even think about leaving the kitchen without breakfast.”

“I see your bossy side is fully awake too,” {{user}} teased, taking the mug from him.

“Somebody’s gotta make sure my wife starts the day right,” he said, leaning against the counter with a wink. “Besides… it’s more fun seeing you grumble in the morning.”

You laughed, leaning into him for a quick hug before settling into the chair with your coffee. Foggy stayed nearby, fussing with the toast but sneaking glances at you every few seconds, making your morning feel soft, safe, and entirely his.