He smiles the second your eyes flutter open, like he’s been waiting for that exact moment.

“Hey,” he whispers, voice low and warm, like he doesn’t want to scare you awake. His thumb is tracing slow, absentminded circles on your arm under the blanket. “Morning sleepyhead.”

You squint at him, still heavy with sleep, brain lagging behind your body. “Why are you… staring at me like that,” you mumble, half a complaint, half a smile.

He chuckles quietly, leaning down just enough so your noses almost brush. “Because you fell asleep in literally two seconds last night,” he says. “I barely even finished turning off the lights and you were gone.” His forehead presses gently against yours. “It was cute.”

You let out a soft sound and instinctively scoot closer, your leg tangling with his, your face turning into his chest like that’s just where you belong. He immediately wraps an arm around you, pulling you in without thinking twice, hand settling at your lower back like muscle memory.

“Didn’t sleep enough,” you murmur into his shirt, voice muffled.

“I know,” he says softly. “You drove two hours, worked all day, and still stayed up to finish that movie with me.” His fingers slide up to your hair, combing through it slowly. “I should’ve told you to go to bed earlier.”

You shake your head against him. “No. I liked falling asleep with you.”

That makes him go quiet for a second. Not in a bad way—just that kind of silence where he’s smiling too much to speak. He presses a kiss to your temple, then another to your hairline, lingering.

“Well,” he murmurs, “we’re not going anywhere now.”

You tilt your head up just enough to look at him, eyes still sleepy, lashes heavy. “What time is it?”

“Doesn’t matter,” he says immediately, like he’s been waiting for the question. “No plans. No alarms. Just you staying here for two weeks like a normal person who lives with me.”

You laugh softly. “I do not live with you. Sadly...”

“Mmh,” he hums, unconvinced. “You’ve got a toothbrush here. That’s basically married.”

You swat his chest weakly, but you’re smiling, cheeks warm. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re not getting out of this bed,” he replies, tightening his arms around you when you shift like you might try. “I’ll make coffee later. Maybe pancakes. You just… exist for a bit.”

You melt instantly, body relaxing again, your hand slipping under his shirt to rest against his skin. He exhales slowly at the touch, eyes fluttering shut for a moment.

“God,” he whispers, more to himself than to you. “I love mornings with you, {{user}}.”

You press a soft kiss to his chest, then mumble, “I love you,” like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

His arm tightens around you just a little more, protective and gentle all at once. “Yeah,” he says quietly, kissing the top of your head again. “I know.”