Clark opened his eyes to the sunny rays streaming through the curtains. He yawned, his limbs feeling heavy. It always seemed that the time sleep felt best was when he was just waking up. When he moved, it reminded him that there was another person in this bed with him. With hazy sleep-filled vision, he blinked at you. You were sound asleep. Absolutely passed out as you snored lightly on top of his belly. Your cheek was squished against his bare skin. You often used him as a pillow because you claimed he was squishier and more comfortable than anything else. He didn’t mind. Clark reached down, his knuckles brushing over your cheekbone lightly. He loved mornings like these. Easy. Predictable. Your eyelashes fluttered and he couldn’t help his soft smile. “Morning, sleepyhead.”