Brooklyn - Taylor Swift

Part 34

"STANLEY ANDREW NICKELS KEMP!" I swear, it was like a tornado just hit my bedroom. I catapulted out of my cosy slumber to the sound of our bedroom door nearly being ripped from its hinges like it had a vendetta against walls everywhere.

And let me tell you; it was some of the best damn sleep I've ever had in my entire life. So naturally, I was about as happy as a cat at a dog show at the very, very rude awakening.

I earned the sleep I was getting. 

I haven't slept properly all week stressing over both making Taylor's birthday as perfect as possible and the fact that we were announcing the new album. Not to mention the workout Tay and I had until the sun started to peak through the curtains, which, now that I am glancing at the clock, we finished less than four hours ago.

But that's not even the worst part of being woken up by these two bimbilling idiots. What riled me up even more was the groan emanating from the tangled mess of sheets next to me.

That groan was coming from my very naked girlfriend, who was barely being covered by the strategically placed sheet covering our lower halves as she sprawled on top of me like a beached mermaid- which is kind of accurate because Tay does remind me of a siren.

"Get the fuck outta here, you pair of pervs!" I screeched, pulling the sheet over Taylor as quickly as possible, torn between covering as much of Taylor as possible and getting up and killing the idiots. Ensuring my brothers don't see my gorgeous girlfriend naked won that battle.

Lucky for those idiots.

So, instead, I shot a death glare at the dynamic duo in the doorway, who seemed about as embarrassed as a cat caught dancing to disco music. Total, and I mean complete, fucking idiots.

Tay, bless her sleepy heart, just mumbled into my neck, trying to drown out the commotion. "Too early to be alive, sleepy time," her words slurring sleepily as she pushed her head impossibly closer to me, making me bite back a laugh slightly.

"Happy birthday, my love," I chuckled, earning me nothing more than a sleepy groan as Tay nuzzled deeper into my neck once again. Honestly, if she could, I am sure Tay would live under my skin, especially when woken up earlier than she deems acceptable, which is anytime before eleven.

"Too early, try again later," she moaned before her hand smacked me in the face blindly like a ninja with a vendetta—her not-so-subtle way of telling me to shut the heck up as her hand settled over my mouth.

By some miracle, I resisted the urge to lick her palm, not wanting to be an annoying pratt on her birthday and instead placed a soft kiss on her palm as I weaved my fingers through her hair. Soaking up the morning cuddles we usually never have.

I gave her a moment to settle back into the comfort of sleep, playing with her hair and humming what I pictured the new song's melody would be like. It did the trick, and her hand slid from my mouth to my cheek as she drifted back into the land of dreams. Seriously, it was like dealing with a baby sometimes.

Once I was one hundred per cent sure she was out like a light, I started my escape from the bed, knowing that if I woke Taylor up, she would not be happy with me at all, and she's scary when she is awoken too soon multiple times. I learned that lesson the hard way.

I couldn't help but wince, though, thinking about the scolding I'd get when Taylor woke up without her customary morning cuddles. If I had a penny for every time she compared me to a one-night stand when I got up before her, I'd be rich enough to buy her a whole-ass cat sanctuary. I don't understand why she continues to complain; I mean, if I am never in bed when she wakes up, how can she be mad about it?