He ran his hand down her back, eyes following the twitch of tickled skin as it tightened in response to his touch. The early morning light made the room glow orange, and he yearned for the blue of the night before. The evening light. Yearned, because soon, the alarm would sound, and he would leave. An entire day ahead of them, and all he wanted to do was lie here. When his fingers reached the end of their trek, he started at the top again, drifting down across a smooth shoulder blade, watching the movement of soft skin, recalling a study about sleeping positions. Back, side, stomach. The stomach sleepers were those in need of comfort. Those who hid inside themselves. During the day, it was hard to believe she was a stomach sleeper… strong and brash, and a little conceited. But he knew better.
She made a noise this time, her voice floating out towards the closed window before rebounding back to him. It was difficult to tell if it was annoyance or acceptance, but he stopped anyway, smiling as he settled back into the covers beside her, and pressed his lips against her bare shoulder.
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