THE SECRETS WE KEEP.

- CHEF BUSWELL.

hey everybody! i hope you're having a great friday. this is just a short filler chapter and my notice on it is to say that i have began writing a oneshot story! the first chapters will be based on diannes australia trip so it will be relevant to now but please feel free to leave any ideas in the comments of any future updates, i would love to write what you all want to hear about!

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DIANNES POV:
Next to the bed, his tiresome alarm blasted it's echoing shudders into the atmosphere, it's high volume setting an instant awaken to anybody within close range. "Joe.." I whined out in a voice croaky from those many hours unconscious to sleep's influence, his hearty chuckles rumbling my head resting on his sturdy chest as his free arm not trapped by my body in our snuggle reached over to deactivate this deathly machine. This whole night had consisted of our bodies interweaved in an affectionate manner, my head lay on his chest, my arm draped across his torso while beneath the sheets our legs were entangled together preventing any form of movement. While this early on a Monday, the instant my lids flutter open, permitting the world to enter my view, my morning coffee would be a vital aspect to arouse every dead sense within me, there was something so peaceful and content about this experience of stirring to the luminous universe enveloped in the arms of Joe Sugg.

Following many unsuccessful attempts of drifting back into sleep paralysis for a few extra moments of solitude, allowing the universe of dreamland to clutch me into their world and mix together an individual mind imagination, with the safety guarantee that somebody would awaken me in time; yet his bodily scent beneath my nostrils was enough to regain my consciousness to a feeling of complete safety. "Good morning.." with the groggy croak still evident in my voice, my eyes drifted along his bare upper body to his face, an undoubtfully delightful sight in the morning time. "How do you look so good in the morning.." this internal thought process was vocalised, in an instinct response my hand clasped across my lips from the embarrassment of the situation. "Good morning to you too.." these earthy chuckles returned, an ease to my heart thumping to a rapid melody in my chest. In a secondary action to further the composure, his lips lightly pressed to my forehead, lingering for a few moments while I felt his legs gently untangle from mine to set me free. Without the use of any word whatsoever besides the typical morning response, my cheek's hue was deepening from the natural peach shade to a darkening crimson shade with each further step my mind took into questioning the meaning of this forehead kiss. It wasn't a simple cheek kiss, an indicate sign of intimacy and endearment, a delicate brush against a lovers cheek. It wasn't the generalised lip kiss, an indication of the other partner wishing for more, your lips sandwiching in amongst the craving softness of theirs. It was a forehead kiss, portraying the trust and comfort we cherish in one another's company, a light brush against the lover's forehead to conjure the beautiful sensation of affection all girls wish to experience.

Distracted by Joe's simple yet heartwarming gesture, my nostrils hadn't accustomed to the breezing familiar scent of coffee, the potent aroma causing my body to strike up straight in the bed and glance towards him with wide eyes and furrowed brows, hoping to hypnotise him into providing full-prove answers. "I put some on this morning before you woke up okay? I know it's your essential morning thing," his body followed in my lead by sitting himself up, much earlier than anticipated. Even with a brief statement, it was a direct portrayal of the meaning of my presence to his happiness, but how accommodated he had become to my silly habits. It's a Monday morning, the one dreaded by all, however his willing choice was to interrupt this morning composing of cuddles and kissing with that extra hour of closed lids to power on a noisy coffee machine in an assist to my out-of-hand addiction. Conflicting from other boyfriends, he never strived to restrict my drinking habit or reiterate the detrimental effect this miniature jolt of energy would have onto my health. There was authority to endulge in it without the constant anxiety of another human being reprimanding my behaviour - the most admirable part of this extremely mundane gesture.