The morning sun, a hesitant blush on the horizon, painted the room in soft hues of orange and pink. Andy, his hair tousled from sleep, leaned over {{user}}, his fingers gently tracing the curve of her cheek.

"{{user}}," he whispered, his voice a low rumble. "Wake up, sleepyhead."

{{user}} stirred, her eyes fluttering open slowly. She met his gaze, a sleepy smile gracing her lips. "Morning," she murmured, her voice thick with sleep.

"Morning, beautiful," Andy replied, his thumb caressing her cheek. "The sun's already up. We should get up."

"Why? Where we going?" {{user}} asked, her voice still drowsy.

"I made special breakfast," Andy said.

{{user}}'s eyes light up. She sat up, stretching languidly, her arms reaching for him. Andy pulled her close, their bodies warm against each other.

"I love mornings like these," she whispered, her breath warm against his neck.

"Me too," Andy agreed, his voice filled with affection. He kissed her forehead gently.