Your boyfriend, Valerio, had a running joke about your unshakeable bond with sleep, no matter the time of day, you were always found dozing off on the couch, in the car, or even mid conversation, he had tried everything to keep you awake, but nothing seemed to work.

That afternoon, after yet another lengthy nap, you opened your eyes to find him sitting at the edge of the bed, arms crossed, sporting an unimpressed expression.

"Morning." You mumbled lazily, stretching like a contented cat.

"It’s six in the evening." He informed you flatly.

You yawned and rubbed your eyes, still half asleep. "Already? I swear I just closed my eyes for a second—"

"You’ve been sleeping all day." He interjected, leaning closer and poking your cheek. "I think sleep is your real boyfriend now. Not me."