tea stained newpapers. mileven au.

thirty.

and because of that... there was, of course, another way to get him to wake up.

the brunette tucked her face into the crevasse of his neck again, letting herself get lost in patiently planting tiny kisses up the length of his throat until she reached his mouth.

in all honesty, she didn't expect him to react as quickly as he did to her small little ministrations. though, she couldn't help but smile once she pressed her lips to his, feeling him respond almost instantly as he pushed further into their goodmorning kiss.

and once she pulled away, the writer blinked a few times, allowing his tired eyes to drift down to hers slowly as a shy smirk gently faded onto his features. yet before she could mumble any words to him, his arm tighten around her protectively as he pulled her closer into his chest, causing the brunette to giggle and him to flutter his eyes shut again in satisfaction.

they were never getting out of this bed, were they?

"writer boyyy," her voice was muffled by the fabric of his shirt, the strong mixture of lavender and jasmine filling her nostrils as he simply hummed at her words.

it felt so odd how much things had tipped between them in such a short amount of time. it was as if now that the glass had shattered between them, they could finally let their hearts hold one another, finally become full together.

finally become everything the other needed.

"we need to get up." she tugged at his shirt, her fingertips lacing into the fabric covering his shoulders. she could feel him shift a bit, slightly protesting underneath her probably annoying movements.

and because of that, it wasn't at all surprising that he grumbled when he opened his eyes again, releasing his hold on her enough so she could see his face clearly. the writer was squinting at her a bit, those feisty eyes not exactly serious enough to hide the playfulness dancing within those darken pools before he replied sarcastically, "says who?"

"says me." the artist fired back, scrunching her nose a bit to mimic his dramatic actions.

he shook his head at her response before titling his chin up to the ceiling like a child, his voice laced with a teasing tone, "who's me?"

"your very concerned painter girl girlfriend who doesn't want you to be late to whatever writer boy duties you have to get done today." it was a lie, she knew he had nothing to do today, which is exactly why she wanted to get up. she just wanted to hear him, listen to him and spend time with him.

and even though it should have been expected that he would be this ambiguously lazy in the mornings, it didn't change the fact that she was hoping for a split second he would push that away to talk to her more, possibly even appreciate her in a - well, more physical way.

not only did she have an attachment issue towards him but now she sounds extremely needy... great.

what has this boy done to her?

the raven haired boy couldn't help but to laugh, that sugary sound permanently seeping into her brain, sprouting and basically evaporating each nerve that kept her functioning correctly.

it was even harder to keep functioning correctly when he dropped his forehead into the dip in her collarbone, using the leverage to lazily roll the rest of his body on top of hers before lifting his head back up to look at her directly.