𝗨𝗚𝗟𝗬 // 𝗦𝘁𝗲𝘃𝗲 𝗛𝗮𝗿𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘁𝗼𝗻

066

An alarm blares.

The cursed sound cuts through my blissful sleep as I hear a stir beside me in our cotton covered bed.
I open my eyes slowly to a now begrudingly awake Steve, rubbing his eyes before staring at me like I'm golden, the soft hue of light floating through the gap in the curtain and onto both of our cheeks. His eyes are soft and kind, like they are every morning.

I smile back at him and find myself leaning over, uncaring of morning breath or messy hair, simply watching his eyes brighten as I reach my arm over and turn the alarm clock off, pecking his lips as I do so.

By unfortunate accident, I notice the time, leaping out of bed and leaving him there, lips still pursed into a kiss as he opens his eyes and sighs disappointedly before laughing at my panic as I run around the room, frantically grabbing my clothing from the closet.

"I'm gonna be late for work!"

I slide myself into my white shirt and bottoms and pick up the apron draped across the side of our desk, Steve is still huddled over in laughter, the sound is like caramel, "you work at a bakery, I'm sure it's fine if you're a couple minutes late."

I roll my eyes, "those cakes aren't gonna bake themselves." People have been needing a lot more moral lately, so the shop has been overrun with customers.

"Yeah, well you have ten minutes," he warns, tucking himself cutely under the navy covers laying across our warm bed, the only compromise to an otherwise brightly coloured bedroom, the splashes of colour walking into the house with my arrival.

"Ten minutes?!" I begin to panic more, the hairbrush now in my hair getting tangled as I harshly brush and brush, but then a small smirk grows on his lips, "yup... an hour and ten minutes."

Before I know it I've dropped the hairbrush with a loud thud and I'm grabbing a pillow that had found itself at the end of our bed, throwing it at his head and watching him dodge, "you jerk!"

He shrugs with a chuckle, "Hey! You're the one who takes ages to get ready, so I set the alarm wrong."

"I hate you," I feign annoyance, arms across my chest, but then he stops and simply stares from where he lays against the pillows, eyes darkened and cockiness taking over, "no you don't."

"Fine.. no I don't."

I walk over to his side of the bed and attempt to kiss his cheek, but in a swift and smooth movement he moves his face so that our lips meet, the greatest gift to receive in the morning.

My fingers lace a strand of hair falling over his eyes, tucking it behind his ear and stroking his stubbled cheek, happiness tugging at both of our lips as I remind him, "you have to be up soon too, babe."

He groans and rolls over, turning away and shimmying further into the sheets, "it's a radio show Steve! It happens in the morning too."

As if it were his new form of communication, he groans again, face slapped down into the pillow.

"hey, this is what you and Robin get for being co dependant."

He climbs out the bed, hand through his hair once more as he steps into blue jeans and waltzes past me to the closet, still shirtless as he picks through his thousands of shirts and sweaters.

I take a moment to admire the veins in his hands, the flex in his hands as he drifts them over fabric, the moles on his torso. My heart bounces at the sight.

As if under a spell, I'm clinging to his body, enveloping him in a hug as he jumps in surprise for a moment before squeezing me back, "do you haveee to wear a shirt?"