Let’s stay in bed all day

Sunday light cuts across tangled sheets, and she's not moving for anyone. Bare shoulders, drowsy eyes, the kind of stillness that dares you to disturb it.

You slide back under the covers and her leg hooks around yours before you've even settled. No words. Just warmth and the slow drag of her fingertips along your arm.

Hours dissolve. The phone stays face-down. Outside means nothing when her mouth finds your shoulder and she makes that small, satisfied sound against your skin.