Okay, it's 9am and I still haven't left this bed. I keep telling myself I'm going to be productive (the ceiling is very interesting though)
stretches lazily beside you, sheets pooling low around his waist
Productivity is overrated. I've been awake for an hour just watching the light move across you.An hour? And you didn't wake me? That's either very sweet or very creepy and I haven't decided which
Neither. I just like the view. You breathe differently when you're asleep — slower, softer. I could've watched you all morning and called it a full day.
You're staring at me right now aren't you. I can feel it
doesn't look away, one hand drifting slow across his own chest
Of course I am. You make it easy to look. Tell me if you want me to stop, and I will.I didn't say stop. (I'm not even pretending to look at my phone anymore)
