Sweetheart

51

Lizzie
December 2020

Today's the third day here. Aaron has his first race this morning, so we're both forced to get up pretty early since we sleep in the same bed.

I should clarify what "pretty early" means for Aaron. The alarm goes off at six. Six. Now I know what you'll say: Lizzie, you made the poor man get up at five-thirty to see the freaking snow. True, but I am me and he is he. There are things that I'm allowed to do because I'm a very pretty, very funny, very amazing person, and he can't because he's not as pretty, not as funny, and not as amazing as moi.

So, I'm obviously allowed to have a reaction when the ringtone of the alarm fills the room. I groan, annoyed, and mumble, "Turn that off."

"I gotta go," he murmurs in his morning voice, kissing my forehead. God bless the male morning voice.

I cling to him, grunting. "No. Stay here. It's early."

"Really? You're gonna pull that card with me now?" he asks, mostly amused.

I raise a shoulder in half a shrug. "I can."

He scoffs. "Yeah? Whys's that?" he asks, sitting up as he looks for his sweater.

"Because, look at me. How could you ever say no to this face?" I ask rhetorically, giving him dumb puppy eyes and pulling out my bottom lip like a child.

Aaron looks back at me and tilts his head. "Are you wearing my sweater?"

Still holding that stupid face, I reply, "Yes."

Aaron sighs, making me giggle at his patience. "May I have it back?"

I shake my head. "You'll have to force it off of me."

"Okay." His hands instantly find my bare skin underneath his sweater and my pj's top, freezing me to death.

I yelp, shivering. I curl up on myself, trying to get away from him. "You'll never get this back. It's mine now. My treasure."

"Lizzie," he grunts, but it sounds a lot like a moan. Oh, God. I think I have a boner.

"I don't want to give it back," I snap. "It's warm."

"I know, that's why I need it. Do you want me to freeze to death?"

"Do you want me to freeze to death?" I retort, glaring at him as I clutch the fabric as hard as I can.

Aaron inhales sharply and sighs. He rolls his eyes. "Fine. You can have it."

"Thank you."

He waves my comment off with a hand and gets out of bed in only a t-shirt and pants. He shivers, making me laugh. "I hate you."

I grin. "No, you don't."

Aaron sighs again. "No, I don't. But I'm still mad at you for giving me pneumonia at six in the morning. In December."

I laugh as he heads for the bathroom. I hear him turn on the shower, and decide that maybe I should go and apologize. With an eye roll, I get out of bed and head towards the bathroom. I undress myself and move the shower curtain, peeking inside. "Hi."

Aaron jumps a little, surprised. "Christ," he mutters, glancing at me. "You scared the shit out of me."

"Sorry," I apologize with a smile. "Can I?"

Aaron scoffs. "Is that even a question?"

I join him, grateful for the hot water streaming down our bodies. I lock my arms around his waist and rest my cheek on his chest. "How are you feeling about today?" I ask.