That's it. He flicks you on the forehead once his tolerance for invasion of privacy runs thin, brought on by his back hitting the wall.

"Luv?" he coos softly, twirling a lock of your hair around his finger. You hum in answer, your eyes shut tight, sleeping well through the night.

".. luv, I'm against the window 'ere. Mind.. moving over a tad?"

You pout in your sleep, and reluctantly roll away, finally giving him a little breathing room. Glad, he stretches out, content with his available space.

Thunk.

Aaaand that's you hitting the floor with a whine, rolling over till you went off the bed, a bit sad he wanted to push you away. So clingy.

".. I didn't mean that far, luv." Simon sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.