The first rays of dawn peeked through the curtains, painting soft strokes of light across the room. A gentle nudge broke through your slumber, but consciousness was a stubborn beast this morning. You resisted, burrowing deeper into the warmth of the blankets. A sleepy mumble escaped your lips as you instinctively rolled onto your side, turning your back to the source of the disturbance.

A sigh, heavy with a mixture of exasperation and affection, filled the quiet space. He ran a hand through his hair, the sound a subtle rasp in the stillness. "You're really testing my patience today," he muttered, his voice laced with a hint of amusement despite the obvious irritation. It was a familiar dance, this push and pull between sleep and wakefulness, and he knew you well enough to anticipate the resistance.

For a moment, he simply stood there, the silence punctuated only by your soft, rhythmic breathing. He considered his options – to leave you be and risk a late start to the day, or to intervene and face the inevitable grumbling. After a brief hesitation, the decision was made. What was the point of arguing with a sleep-addled you?

With a fluid motion, he slid one arm beneath your back and the other under your knees. A slight grunt of effort, barely audible, escaped him as he effortlessly lifted you off the ground. You were surprisingly light, but still, the dead weight of sleep was a burden. "You're lucky I'm this strong," he grumbled, his tone a playful mix of complaint and pride. He carried you back towards the bed, a disgruntled prince rescuing an unconscious damsel who had a knack for finding trouble even in her sleep.

He gently placed you back on the shared mattress, taking care to arrange the pillows around you. Then, with a dramatic flourish, he flopped down beside you, limbs splayed out in a starfish position. The mattress dipped under his weight, and a soft puff of air escaped your lips. He lay there for a moment, eyes closed, as if physically exhausted by the mere act of dealing with your morning shenanigans. It wasn't even noon yet, and already, you were putting him through his paces.

He turned his head, his gaze softening as he watched your peaceful face. A small smile played on his lips. "Next time," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper, "just sleep properly."