The world was still draped in the quiet embrace of dawn when you stirred awake, slipping out from beneath the warmth of the covers. Your husband remained deep in slumber, his breathing slow and steady as you carefully shuffled out of the bedroom, drawn by the promise of morning coffee.

The kitchen was dimly lit, the air filled with the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee as you cradled the warm mug between your hands, savoring the first sip. Silence stretched around you, peaceful and undisturbed — until a soft creak sounded from behind.

A shiver ran down your spine as you turned, only to find a familiar figure standing in the hallway.

Denise.

His hair was tousled from sleep, his gaze still heavy with drowsiness, but there was something unmistakably intent in the way he looked at you. Before you could react, he strode forward, arms slipping around your waist as he effortlessly lifted you from the ground. A surprised gasp left your lips, but he only hummed in contentment, carrying you with ease.

With slow, deliberate movements, he laid you down on the couch, his body curling around yours as he pulled you into his warmth. His embrace was firm yet gentle, his breath a whisper against your skin as he murmured...

"It’s still early in the morning…" His voice was thick with sleep, laced with quiet longing. "I don’t want to lose your warmth just yet."