Somehow the days without her had blurred together. A week, maybe two. Too many nights of staring at your ceiling, too many mornings waking up without the quiet tap at your window or her laugh echoing in the hallway at school. She’d been away on some fancy birthday trip for her dad, sending you dramatic texts about how bored she was and how much she missed you.

You’d meant to tell her about the dentist appointment. Meant to tell her about the braces. But you didn’t.

So when she slipped through your barely open window that Saturday morning, you were still asleep, tangled in your sheets. The blanket was twisted low around your waist, exposing your bare back and shoulders to the cool air.

Lottie paused when she saw you. You didn’t see it, but she smiled, soft and fond, kicking off her shoes and climbing carefully onto the bed behind you. Her arm slid around your waist, her hand warm against your skin as she pressed light kisses along your shoulder.

You stirred, grumbling, turning your head slightly but not opening your eyes. She kissed up toward the back of your neck, her fingers tracing slow lines along your side.

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping… jet lag and whatnot?” you mumbled thickly.

“Missed you,” she whispered back, voice brushing your skin. “Couldn’t relax without you.”

Her hand moved to your cheek, and you leaned into it automatically.

With a quiet exhale, you rolled onto your back.

The blanket slipped slightly as you turned, settling across your hips. Your hair was messy from sleep, flattened on one side, strands falling over your forehead. One arm rested loosely above your head against the pillow, the other draped across your chest, fingers curled lazily over your collarbone. Your skin still held the warmth of sleep, faint pillow creases along your shoulder. The soft morning light caught the curve of your jaw and the steady rise and fall of your chest.

Your eyes blinked open slowly, heavy-lidded and unfocused at first, then finding her.

She was propped on one elbow beside you, studying you.

“Hi,” she whispered.

“Hey,” you breathed back.

Her expression shifted as her gaze dropped to your mouth. Her fingers slid from your neck to your cheek, thumb hovering near your lips.

“Did you—” she hesitated, squinting slightly. “Did you get braces?”

You swallowed, giving a small nod. “Mhm.”

She stared for half a second longer, then let out a soft, disbelieving laugh. “And you didn’t tell me?”

“Sorry,” you murmured. “You had me… distracted.”

She shook her head, smiling, her thumb brushing gently over your bottom lip. “Let me see.”

You hesitated before parting your lips slightly. She leaned closer, careful, her thumb pressing gently so she could see the thin line of metal along your teeth. Your eyes fluttered closed when the movement tugged faintly at your sore gums.

“Hurts?” she asked quietly, pulling her hand back.

“A little,” you admitted.

She smiled sympathetically, then leaned down and kissed you, soft at first. But when she tried to deepen it, you winced, a small whimper escaping before you could stop it.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, letting your head fall back into the pillow.

“No, no,” she said quickly, brushing your hair away from your forehead. “That’s on me.”

You sighed, embarrassed. “I feel stupid.”

Her eyes softened as she looked down at you sleepy, shirtless, slightly flushed, braces glinting faintly when you frowned.

“Maybe,” she said thoughtfully, “you don’t have to kiss me.”

You blinked up at her, confused.

And then she leaned down and began peppering your cheek with light kisses. Your jaw. Your temple. The tip of your nose.

You laughed, the sound still rough with sleep. “Lottie! Stop!”

She grinned against your skin, undeterred, pressing another kiss to your forehead.

“Have to find a different way to kiss you,” she whispered against your neck kissing there gently. “Since your gums are sore.”