“Baby, come on, I gotta go.” Helena groans, trying and failing to push you away from your insistent nuzzling against her stomach. Nosing up the hem of her shirt to kiss at her warm skin, leaving sparkling marks from your gloss behind.

Polished nails scratch the base of your neck, elbows resting on your shoulders to pull you impossibly close. Just…accepting that she’d be here for a little while longer.

Oh well. She could afford to be a few minutes late. Maybe an hour. Or two. Or the whole day.

“..you are so goddamn insufferable.”

She’s lying.