Morning comes way too fast.

Light slips through the curtains, landing right on your face. You groan, rolling over, already aware of two things: rehearsal is soon… and Lara is still very much asleep.

Her arm is draped over your waist, warm and heavy, like she’s anchoring you there.

“Lara,” you mumble, nudging her shoulder. “We have to get up.”

She barely stirs. Instead, she tightens her grip and tugs you back against her chest, face pressing into your neck.

“Mm. No,” she murmurs, voice rough with sleep. “Stay.”

“You promised,” you say, half-laughing, half-stressed as you try to sit up again. “We can’t be late. Again.”

Lara groans, rolling with you until she’s halfway on top of you now, eyes still closed. Her hand finds your wrist, fingers lacing together like it’s instinct.

“Five more minutes,” she says. “You’re warm.”

“Lara.”

She opens one eye, just barely, lips curling into a lazy smile. “Baby… you already woke me up once. That counts.”

You shake your head, pushing her hand away and swinging your legs off the bed. “I’m serious. I’m leaving on time. You’re coming with me.”

“Mhm,” she hums, already sinking back into the pillow. “I will.”

You turn to look at her. “Say it.”

She peeks at you again, softer this time. “I promise.”

You don’t trust it—but you grab your things anyway. As you’re pulling on your shoes, Lara reaches out again, catching your sleeve and giving it a gentle tug.

“Don’t go yet,” she says quietly. “Just one more second.”

You lean down, press a quick kiss to her forehead, and sigh. “Get up. I mean it.”

By the time you step out, she’s still in bed.

⸻

You’re already at rehearsal when your phone buzzes with the time.

Five minutes late.

Your jaw tightens. You pull your phone out and type.

you’re late.

The reply comes almost instantly.

yeah, i know baby.