This, to Joel, was bliss.

You, laying on his chest in the early hours of the morning. No responsibilities yet. No bullshit.

Just a few more minutes, Jackson could manage on its own.

As you began to stir awake, he shushed you, holding you in his strong arms, his pec pressed against your drool covered chin.

"Mornin'." He murmured to you, kissing the top of your head.

You gave a half asleep grunt in response.

He sighed, running his hand up and down your back, the daylight finally filtering in through the curtains.

"You know, before all this mess, this typa morning is what they'd write songs about." He mused, thinking back to before the world ended, before everything went wrong. But quickly shook that aside. He had you now.

"Let's just stay in bed a while."