𝕮𝖔𝖇𝖎𝖊 𝕾𝖒𝖚𝖑𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖘 𝕴𝖒𝖆𝖌𝖎𝖓𝖊𝖘

Lazy Morning | M.H.

[Fluff/Smut]

The light was soft when you woke.

It didn't flood in, didn't shout its arrival. It simply pressed gently at the edges of your closed eyes, warm and pale and slow. You blinked once, then again, your lashes brushing against skin.

Maria.

She was still asleep.

Her forehead rested against yours, her breath feathering softly over your lips, warm and even. One of her arms was draped lazily across your waist. Your thighs were still tangled, your cores still sticky from what you'd shared.

And somehow, her presence made everything feel quieter.

Your body was sore in all the best places. Your hips, your thighs, the gentle throb low in your stomach. You didn't move. Not yet. You just watched her.

Her lashes were long, her brows relaxed, lips slightly parted.

You leaned in and kissed her cheek.

She stirred — just slightly — then shifted closer, mumbling something unintelligible against your skin. Her arm tightened around you.

"Mm," she breathed, voice still thick with sleep. "Still here?"

You smiled. "Still here."

She cracked one eye open, then the other. Her smile bloomed slowly, lazily, like it belonged to a different time zone.

"You're staring," she whispered.

"Can you blame me?"

A soft laugh warmed between you. "I guess not."

She kissed you then — soft and unfocused and half-asleep — just a brush of lips. You felt her fingers flex on your waist. Her hips shifted, not with intent, but with comfort. Familiarity.

Then she pulled back an inch and looked down between you.

You were still naked.

She was too.

Her lips curved again. "Guess we did that."

"Guess we did."

You leaned in and kissed her again. This time slower. A little deeper. She hummed into it, hand sliding up your back. The kiss stayed lazy, unhurried, nothing hungry about it.

But still.

You felt it stir again.

That ache.

That awareness.

Your hand slid down her side, over her ribs, settling on her hip. Your thumb stroked slow circles there.

She smiled against your mouth. "So it wasn't a one-night scissor."

You laughed into the kiss. "Apparently not."

Her hand dipped lower, fingers teasing the curve of your lower back. "Do we ever have to get up?"

"I don't think so."

"But if we did... would you attack me with hugs again?"

You grinned. "Violently."

Maria pulled you on top of her, and you collapsed into her bare body, groaning dramatically.

Her skin was so soft.

So warm.

So real.

She held you like that for a long time, her fingers tracing nonsense patterns across your back, your leg thrown over hers, your cheek against her chest. You listened to her heartbeat, slow and steady and right beneath your ear.