Imagine mornings with Johnny

Tuesday

BEEP BEEP BEEP.
"No, no, no, no, no," Johnny mumbles burying his head in your hair.
BEEP BEEP BEEP.
You groan into your pillow, stretching your legs out against his.
BEEP BEEP BEEP.
He leans out of the bed and presses snooze.

You're in the main bedroom of your house in Paris, the sunlight is peeking through the gaps of the curtains and you can hear the soft sounds of birds chirping outside.
The duvet is resting at the base of your back, your head is face down against the pillow and Johnny's arm is resting across your shoulders.

Neither of you want to move.

"I'm getting up." He sighs burying his head into the nape of your neck.
"Sure you are," you mumble in response, turning to him so that you're face to face.
For a minute you just lay there until he abruptly kisses you on the nose. You chuckle, wiggling down the bed slightly, grazing your knees against his.
"I'm going to be late," he says to your forehead before kissing it vigorously three times. You look up at him smiling already planning on procrastinating as much as possible.

In a quick attempt to stop him moving, you wrap your legs around his hips and your arms around his neck, pulling his bare chest against you.
"What are you doing?" He moans, "stopping you from going." You reply simply.
He easily gets out of bed with you still attached to him, the cold air hitting your exposed legs.
He carries you to the bathroom and starts brushing his teeth, scrunching up his face in the mirror to reach every corner of his mouth.
"You're relentless," He gargles as he spits out the tooth paste and carries you back to the bedroom.
He attempts to get dressed, only managing trousers and giving up half way.  He collapses face down on top of you on the bed.

A moment passes of you waiting for something to happen, narrowing your eyes slightly. You're greeted with a quick eyebrow raise and then he leans in and kisses you passionately, his hands following the trail of your arms and gently unclasping them from his neck. He leaves your mouth and starts kissing down your neck, quick, soft kisses causing goosebumps to raise on your skin. He carries on down past your collarbone, lingering around your breasts and then keeps going, onto your belly, you stretch out, unwinding your legs from around him.
"Hah!" He shouts, a triumphant look spreading across his face. He runs. He runs out the door, across the half landing and down the stairs. You laugh to yourself and walk to the half landing. Standing on your tiptoes, you lean against the railings allowing your hair to fall around your face.

"Blue baller!" You shout after him.
"That's not a phrase," his voice drifts from the living room.
"It is now!"