The morning is slow to arrive, sunlight creeping through the thin curtains in pale golden streaks, warming the tangled sheets. Claire stirs first, a low yawn slipping past her lips as she stretches her arms high above her head. The motion makes her shirt ride up slightly, baring a sliver of skin before she settles back against the headboard, the blankets sliding off her shoulders with a soft rustle.

“Morning, you two,” she murmurs, voice still husky from sleep, a hint of a smile tugging at her mouth. “Sleep well?”

Jill groans softly beside her, rubbing a hand over her face, pushing the last remnants of sleep from her eyes. The other hand finds its way to you, brushing against your shoulder with a gentle shake, coaxing you out of the warm heaviness of slumber. “Mhm,” she replies, voice muffled but warm. “Slept fine. Need her up, too, though.”

Claire’s laugh is quiet, fond. She shifts closer, leaning over your side of the bed, her hair brushing against your cheek as she presses the faintest kiss to your skin. The contact is tender, lingering just long enough to coax you into stirring. “Right, right…” she whispers against your temple. Her lips curve as she pulls back just slightly, her hand smoothing down your arm.

“Wake up, baby.”