sapphic/wlw love stories (oneshots) [includes nblw]

Good Morning, Sunshine

A/N: i'm back from the dead. i didn't edit it so you get a rough draft. the conclusion is really messy because i ran out of motivation

Word Count: 832

Trigger Warnings: intrusive thoughts (no compulsions), innuendos, cussing, uh i think that's it

————————–————————————————
     I hate mornings. Not because I feel like complete and utter shit (which I do), but because of the absolute annoyingness of the situation. What's not to loathe? The sun comes up and demands attention, doing all it can to interrupt my sleep. It shines through my blinds, piercing through my eyes, waking me. Only bitches wake those who are sleeping. To conclude: the sun is a bitch. I start my morning by being begrudgingly woken by an eternal and unceasing menace (the newly-proclaimed bitch I have the unfortunate pleasure of dealing with daily), and the only source of my energy is minutes away.  After finally getting enough energy to get the energy to function (irony knows no bounds), I drink my drug of choice: coffee. Following this enjoyable moment is my least favorite part of life: responsibility. Each of those (very irksome) things within a few minutes of waking. So yes, I abhor mornings.

      I've managed yet again to complain before doing the things I've been complaining about. Rather than putting my energy into expressing my dislike for the things I've yet to do, I suppose I'll move on with my day and get to doing them. I just can't wait to have processed plant matter doused in juice from cow nipples. How absurdly wonderful is the human experience? That the common-American's breakfast could be put so offensively, yet realistically? God, humans are strange. How unfortunate it is that I happen to be one of them.

     "Hey babe?"

     That's my girlfriend, Mariè, my favorite human. She also happens to be a morning person, which I find obscenely odd, but not objectionable. I'm too weary to yell back, but I'm not going to completely ignore her, either. I should opt to speak instead; that takes very little energy. I should know, I talk a lot. I hope she'll come to our room, whatever room she's in feels like it would be miles away. I don't want to go there; I'm too tired. Is that awful? Am I awful? Am I being self-centered? She shouldn't have to work this hard for me. I should get up. I-

     "Do you have any alternative milk on the Target order?"

Fuck, she's here before I could even decide to say anything. Maybe I am a shitty person. Stop talking, answer her, dumbass. "Uh, no," I reply, finally, "I can do that now..." I twist, sitting up, grabbing my phone.

"Okay," She makes her way towards me, smiling, "thanks, babe."

She kisses my forehead, interrupting my almond milk endeavor. I'm blushing like an idiot. I avert my eyes, pretending to search for something interesting on the floor. God, she's perfect.

"You're cute when you're tired, you know that?"

"I'm always tired,"

"Exactly," she says, "always-" she boops my nose, "-adorable."

"Shush," I say.

She raises her eyebrow suggestively in response to my previous and not-well-thought-out statement

Before she can get to saying anything, I interrupt her. "No-" I stand up, placing my hands gingerly on her waist, "- now it's too early for that, silly"

"Fiiine," she complains playfully, flopping down onto the bed.

I grab her wrists, helping her up to a sitting position. "Good morning," I announce, as if I haven't been up and having a conversation for the past few minutes.

She kisses me quick, pulling my face onto hers. "Gooood morning, sleepyhead."

"Are you sure that I'm the adorable one?"

"Yes," she insists, "now shut up."

She chooses to be stubborn at inconvenient times. It's one of the things I love about her. I sigh, pulling my face away from hers. "Maybe later," it takes all the willpower I have to not flop back onto the bed in exhaustion, but I refuse to let her win this little witty standoff, "I'm going to go get coffee." I turn away.

"And breakfast,"

I roll my eyes for the umpteenth time this morning, "Yes, and breakfast. Now, can I go?" I'm not asking, but playfully pleading.

"Yesss," she says, staring at me longingly. "I'll be waitiiing..."

Her attempts at luring me back to join her barely fail, but they do fail nonetheless. "Yes you willl..."

I'm out of the room before I could see her reaction to my mockery, but I'll be back. She's probably pouting. Perhaps she's plotting. I'll stick to my routine of brewing coffee, and only after that will I begrudgingly greet the day. The very annoying day.

      Actually, I'd rather spend the day with Mariè. Except, to do that, I'd have to eat breakfast. And disregard my other responsibilities. You know what? That's a small price to pay for sanity. Screw my responsibilities, I have a beautiful girlfriend to spend time with.