The sheets are twisted messily around your legs when you wake up, kicked off somewhere throughout the night to avoid getting too hot. You’re warm regardless, a thin film of sweat glistening on your skin in the sunlight that comes in through the drawn curtains. It takes you a moment to realize it’s not the weather that’s causing it, though it is hotter than what you're used to back in Wiskayok.

But no, the summer heat, isn’t all: It's her, too. Your girlfriend, all wrapped around you, with her legs hooked through yours on the covers and one arm thrown over your waist, one curled under your neck, pinning you to her to stop you from wiggling away in the morning.

Lottie’s body fits to yours so naturally. Her face is nestled into your shoulder, lips parted, her breath rising in warm puffs against your collarbone.

You feel the tickle of Lottie’s lashes against your skin, followed reluctantly by the rasp in her sleepy voice when she mumbles: “S’time already?”

You hum, fingers drifting up into her hair, threading through the strands and scratching at her scalp. Lottie lets out a satisfied noise, pressing closer to you.

You’ve made plans, plenty of them. A long list of things the two of you had to do on your first proper vacation together, scribbled down on the drive here. There was, of course, the trip to nationals last summer, which you've both agreed doesn't count because 1) you were still in high school, 2) not technically a couple, and 3) definitely not alone.

Now, in the Matthews’ summer house (more of a mansion, if you’re honest), it’s just the two of you, free from practices & curfews, with two weeks you swore would be spent productively, no wasted in bed.