I'll be sure to keep that in mind when I sneak away early in the morning to do the walk of shame.

[She scoffs as she shifts so her head is resting against his chest, arm splayed out over him. Her fingers tiptoe across his stomach until they trace across a scar, where her palm slips to press gently.

It's easy to slip into this with him, to feel perfectly content lying here tangled together. Her foot rubs against his, just getting used to the feeling of him being against her this way. It's incredibly comfortable, both physically and emotionally. She could definitely get used to this.

She's still smiling as her eyes close and she relaxes completely against him.]

Wouldn't want to wake you up and risk you being grumpy all day. I'm not sure you'd ever forgive me.