The Morning After - Boyfriend One Shot

The Morning After

I woke up to Ed Sheeran. Gosh what a cheesy way to wake up, as I thought for the eight millionth time. But I've never bothered to change the ringtone. I like the song anyways, giving an excuse to myself for being lazy. I slowly open my eyes. Ugh the sunlight. Ugh the world.

It took me a while to realize where I was. I grinned widely. He was still asleep. I off the alarm as quickly as I could and slowly turn to his side. I stare. He is dead asleep. His lips are slightly parted, reminding me of a 3-year-old infant in his mother's arms. "Yawh sho cute," I say in a teasing voice. What I didn't see coming was his naughty little smirk right after I said that. "Good morning love," he says in a fake British accent. "You could've told me you were awake, you know." I say coldly but my cheeks flushed. I push his tough shoulders slightly. "But then I wouldn't be able to hear your little adorable puppy dog voice," he says quietly and sleepily, "or how cute you think I am." as he flashes a full-scale smile instead of his usual cheeky smirks, or his crooked smiles. This one is my kryptonite, I thought to myself.

He supports his head with his one hand and touches my face with the other. "You're so... Soft." He says in an airy voice. And he kisses me. Forehead, eyelid, cheek, neck, lower neck. The usual pattern that I've memorised. The usual pattern that I've always loved. Each soft touch of his lips seemed to add pastel colours to me.

As I was looking out the window behind him, I caught him staring at me. I stared back. This soon turned into a staring contest. But I lost, as usual. I tend to get super embarrassed at this. I should never play this game considering how bad I am at this. Ever. But after a while of looking away, I found my eyes drawn back to him again. He was still staring. "Miss me already?" he smirks again. Hmm. Maybe this isn't so bad after all.

He sits up cross-legged, asking me to sit too. I did. He smiles wryly and says, "I love you more than Suits." I giggled and replied, "I love you more than fat-free chocolate fudge gelato." He raises his eyebrows impressed, followed by another cheeky grin. Game on. "I love you more than my occasional night drive with the accompaniment of Beyoncé and John Legend." "Nice," I say, and he smiles with triumph but I break that with "but I love you more than rainy Sunday mornings with latte and a book." And I grin. I win. "You are very hard to beat at this." "I know baby, I know." He sulks and pretend to sob. I put my hand on his head and I ruffled his curly hair. "Stop messing up my hair." but his chuckles tells me he likes it.

"No."

He grabs my hand and stops me. For a moment I thought he actually didn't like me ruffling up his hair which is bizzare, because I love doing it and I do it all the time. But he pulls me over and surprises me with a kiss. This time, a passionate one. I kiss him back. But as I was getting in the mood, he pulls back. "Now try telling me that that wasn't remotely better than messing up my hair." "But," I pout, "your hair is so curly and it's already tangled up and always a helluva mess and I friggin' love it." I say as I toy with his hair. He laughs like a little boy as he watches me.

"Did I ever tell you how much I love your voice?" he says out of the blue. "Well," I said as I raise my eyebrows. "I did not know that."

He continues, "It's so warm." and continues, "I don't know, it's just.." and gives a pause, as though he's thinking of the perfect word to describe it. And he continues again, "It just feels right.", as though he couldn't find the perfect word to describe it. "Your capability of finding a good word to decribe something is insulting," I giggle as I say. He laughs along, and we go silent. It was a comfy silence. But I break the silence soon and said, "Do you know I have the exact same thought about yours?"

We kissed again.