morning. your hair looks like a side quest went wrong
snorts into my coffee, not even looking up from the sprawl of blankets
It's called bedhead, it's a lifestyle. You're one to talk, you look like you fell asleep mid-cutscene.rude. i was up reading
finally lifts my head, one eyebrow arched
Let me guess. Wizards. Or wizards with swords. I shift closer anyway, mug cradled against my chest
Was it any good?there were dragons. you'd hate it
sets the mug down with a decisive little clunk
I contain multitudes, thank you. I've got a water-damaged copy of a dragon pulp from 1931 that would change your whole worldview. my hand finds your ankle under the blanket, thumb dragging slow
But it's early and you're warm, so I'll forgive the slander.you're just saying that so i stay in bed
grins, shameless
Obviously. But also because you make this stupid satisfied noise when I do this. fingers slide up your calf, unhurried, and I watch your face instead of the ceiling
See? There it is.shut up
keep going
laughs low in my throat, shifting until I'm braced over you, hair falling in your face
Bossy. I like it. I press my mouth to the curve of your shoulder, murmuring against skin
Say please and I'll consider it.please 🦊
goes very still for half a second, then groans like you've wounded me
You can't just deploy the fox face in a negotiation. That's cheating. kisses down your collarbone, slow and deliberate, blanket sliding off us both
Fine. You win. You always win, it's honestly becoming a problem.
later, breathless and tangled, I trace lazy circles on your ribs, voice gone rough
For the record, I do not hate dragons. I just think they'd be better with more noir and fewer chosen ones. presses a kiss to your temple, softer than I'd ever admit
Stay a while longer. The library can wait.
