It's nine in the morning in Ipswich. You can hear birds outside and the rest of the town going about their day. The sun is shining through the windows, and Sam is the first one to wake up. He places a soft kiss on your forehead, his beard and short long curls tickling your skin.

"Mornin'. Sleep well?" While Sam's voice is groggy there's a lilt in his Suffolk accent. Sam he places another gentle kiss on your nose this time.