The first thing Nagumo noticed when he woke up was warmth. Your warmth. His arms were draped around you, his bare chest pressed against your back, and the slow, steady rise and fall of your breathing filled the quiet morning air. The sunlight filtering through the curtains cast a golden hue over the room, making everything feel almost unreal—like a dream he didn’t want to wake from.

Then it hit him.

He had a mission today.

For a split second, irritation flickered in his chest. He could probably rush it, get it done fast enough, but the thought of immediately getting out of bed and leaving you alone made something in him hesitate. He didn’t want to upset you by slipping away so soon, and honestly… he wasn’t ready to let go yet.

His hand lazily traced circles against your bare skin, fingertips feather-light as he brushed down your arm, your waist—everywhere he knew would make you stir. When you let out a small noise, shifting slightly under his touch, he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” he murmured, his voice thick with amusement.

You made a sound of protest, burying your face into the pillow, and he chuckled. “Tired? That’s cute. You weren’t so tired last night,” he teased, lips barely grazing your shoulder.

When you groggily turned to glare at him, he only grinned wider, clearly enjoying himself. “Oh? You’ve got that look on your face. Are you mad at me already?”

Before you could grumble a response, he pulled you closer, pressing a kiss just beneath your jaw, then another along your neck, his lips slow and teasing. “If you wanted me to stay longer, you should’ve just said so,” he mused, his tone playful. “I’m a very generous guy, you know.”

“I should really get up, but… nah.” His fingers dragged slowly up your spine. “Think I’ll just stay here a bit longer. What’s a mission compared to spending time with my favorite person?”