𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐩𝐞 - j.egan [masters of the air]

∣ 013; o c t o b e r

. *. ⋆

Eloise woke early the following morning, the morning of October 9th, the sky still pitch-black outside.

The hotel room was cold, but beneath the covers where she and John were tangled together was nothing short of warmth.

Carefully, Eloise attempted to pry herself from John's grip— he was lying on top of her, his hands wrapped firmly around her torso, keeping her pressed between his chest and the mattress with no possible way of her escaping. Even when she tried to use her hands to remove his from herself, he pulled her closer to him, making it entirely impossible.

"John," she whispered, her voice groggy from just waking up. She poked his side, attempting to escape once more. "John."

From above her, he groaned, his eyes blinking open as her continuous pokes jammed into his side.

"Stop."

"I need to get going," Eloise told him, again trying to push him off her.

He sighed, getting more comfortable, his head going to the crook of her neck as he planted a kiss on the skin.

"Just a few more minutes."

Eloise groaned, her voice tired, "C'mon— if you don't let go of me, I'm gonna fall back asleep."

"Sounds terrible."

"John. I'll get yelled at."

"Just pretend you are sick," he stated. His eyes were still closed, his breathing soft against her skin.

"Right," Eloise huffed— her hands went to his bare back, her nails scratching gently against the skin resulting in a shiver from John, which Eloise ignored as she spoke, continuing the movements, "because me being sick yet going to London is entirely believable."

John blinked his eyes open, face sleepy with furrowed eyebrows— he removed one of his hands from Eloise's back, placing it on the warm skin of her side, his thumb rubbing continuously over the small birthmark.

"Do you really gotta leave now?"

Eloise looked at the clock on the bedside table— she took in the hour and the minutes and then shook her head.

"I have 15 more minutes, maximum— any more than that, and I'll be late."

He frowned but nodded, the hand still resting beneath Eloise's back hugging her closer to him.

Then, he began to talk, his morning voice still prominent.

"When we go back home, we'll have mornin's like this all the time. You won't need to leave. We can just lay in bed."

Humming, Eloise nodded, "We'll lay in bed until one of us is too hungry to wait any longer. We'll go to the kitchen. We can cook breakfast together."

"Pancakes?"

"Absolutely not John Egan. We are having waffles, and that's final."

He snorted out a laugh at her appalled tone, "Fine. But we are havin' strawberries with the waffles."

"Of course. Blackberries, too."

"Maple syrup."

"Butter."

"Coffee. Black only."

Eloise made a disgusted face, looking down at John, "Of course you would like black coffee and only that. I'll be having tea with honey. Or maybe some orange juice."

John made a noise, "What's wrong with black coffee?"

"Everything. Black coffee is gross, it's shameful, and it's really making me question our relationship right now— "