elix woke up to sunlight bleeding through the blinds and the faint sound of water running in the bathroom. Still half-asleep, he dragged himself out of bed, the ache in his muscles reminding him of everything you’d done last night. Training, you called it. He called it something else entirely...

He padded toward bathroom shirtless, hair a mess, and pillow creases stamped across his cheek. The door was cracked open, and you were standing in front of the mirror, hair damp and wearing one of his shirts again. Without so much as a hello, he pressed up behind you, his arms curling around your waist.

“Don’t go.” he mumbled, his voice still rough with sleep.

You huffed but didn’t reply, your hands braced against the edge of the sink.

“I mean it.” he murmured, his lips ghosting along the side of your neck. “You don’t have to see him.”

Before you could shove him off, he scooped you up and planted you on the bathroom sink. Your legs fell open without thinking, knees framing his waist like you fit there. Like you were made for him.

“I don’t have time for this.” you hissed, pushing at his chest.

“Sure you do.” he said, sliding closer. “Just a little morning warm-up before your big date with that idiot.”

Felix leaned in and before you could say anything else, his hands cupped your face. His lips brushed yours once, then again, and then he was kissing you like he didn’t care about anything else. Like you weren't about to walk out that door and leave him for someone else.

“You’re not ready yet.” he murmured against your lips, and kissed you again before you could argue.

You tried to wiggle away, but you slipped instead, your balance giving out.

Felix caught you before you could fall, steading you with one hand firmly holding your thigh, the other guiding your arm around his neck. And just like that, you were his again, pressed against him, breathing hard, your forehead resting against his.

“See?” he said, kissing the corner of your mouth softly. “Not ready.”