sunday.
just a little thing i wrote based on what my friend sang
sunday mornings are her favourite.
the sun will be shining, but filtered through the ecru curtains, it's not so bad. she likes warmth and the sun rays provide her with what she needs, but she thinks that she likes the warmth from him more.
many couples seem to go to bed half naked or whatsoever, but they are always bundled up. he will be wearing a white tee shirt - she doesn't know just how many of those he has in his closet - and this pair of really, really comfortable cotton pants. (it's either grey or black and she thinks it suits him, despite how warm he is.) she will be wearing an old sweatshirt and a pink ariel jacket because somehow, everybody seems to think she still likes pink and disney princesses, even after all those years. of course, she doesn't mind, but perhaps a more mature jacket would be nicer. even though it's cold at night, she insists on wearing shorts to bed; cotton feels great against bare legs, she argues. but enough about attire.
they agree that no alarms are to be set on sundays. no early morning appointments, no sunrise jogging, no nothing. instead, they spend the time in bed doing nothing. but there is always that one bird outside that will keep calling and calling - what is it even calling for, anyway? it's too early to get a mate - and then he will just roll over and cover her ears with his relatively huge hands.
"ignore it, it's probably just trying to get worms," he murmurs through a small crack between his fingers. she giggles because she's ticklish.
"why would it try to call out for worms? the worms don't go to the bird, the bird goes to the worm," she replies. it's funny how they're having such a ridiculous conversation on a sunday morning, but their relationship had always been kind of funny, anyway.
"haven't you heard? the early bird gets the worm."
"well, this one is getting the worm too early, then."
"but that's what everyone thought until i got you," he breathes. she laughs and slaps him on the chest lightly.
"you must have been an annoying bird."
"i'll be as annoying as i want to until i catch your attention." she laughs again, this time more gently. he kisses her on the forehead and she blushes.
"aww, look at how you blush so easily," he teases as he watches her burrow her way under the covers.
"i'm not going to talk to you any more," she huffs from under the blanket, albeit a little muffled. it's his turn to laugh now.
"you can't escape forever, you know." he tosses the blanket off and pulls her to his chest. he can't see it, but he can feel the warmth radiating from her cheeks.
he thinks that perhaps, the red might go away if he kissed her. so he does just that - he lifts her chin up and gives her a kiss on the lips. oops. looks like he was wrong.
"...you're such an idiot."
sunday mornings are her favourite.
-
ew so cheesy
sunday mornings are her favourite.
the sun will be shining, but filtered through the ecru curtains, it's not so bad. she likes warmth and the sun rays provide her with what she needs, but she thinks that she likes the warmth from him more.
many couples seem to go to bed half naked or whatsoever, but they are always bundled up. he will be wearing a white tee shirt - she doesn't know just how many of those he has in his closet - and this pair of really, really comfortable cotton pants. (it's either grey or black and she thinks it suits him, despite how warm he is.) she will be wearing an old sweatshirt and a pink ariel jacket because somehow, everybody seems to think she still likes pink and disney princesses, even after all those years. of course, she doesn't mind, but perhaps a more mature jacket would be nicer. even though it's cold at night, she insists on wearing shorts to bed; cotton feels great against bare legs, she argues. but enough about attire.
they agree that no alarms are to be set on sundays. no early morning appointments, no sunrise jogging, no nothing. instead, they spend the time in bed doing nothing. but there is always that one bird outside that will keep calling and calling - what is it even calling for, anyway? it's too early to get a mate - and then he will just roll over and cover her ears with his relatively huge hands.
"ignore it, it's probably just trying to get worms," he murmurs through a small crack between his fingers. she giggles because she's ticklish.
"why would it try to call out for worms? the worms don't go to the bird, the bird goes to the worm," she replies. it's funny how they're having such a ridiculous conversation on a sunday morning, but their relationship had always been kind of funny, anyway.
"haven't you heard? the early bird gets the worm."
"well, this one is getting the worm too early, then."
"but that's what everyone thought until i got you," he breathes. she laughs and slaps him on the chest lightly.
"you must have been an annoying bird."
"i'll be as annoying as i want to until i catch your attention." she laughs again, this time more gently. he kisses her on the forehead and she blushes.
"aww, look at how you blush so easily," he teases as he watches her burrow her way under the covers.
"i'm not going to talk to you any more," she huffs from under the blanket, albeit a little muffled. it's his turn to laugh now.
"you can't escape forever, you know." he tosses the blanket off and pulls her to his chest. he can't see it, but he can feel the warmth radiating from her cheeks.
he thinks that perhaps, the red might go away if he kissed her. so he does just that - he lifts her chin up and gives her a kiss on the lips. oops. looks like he was wrong.
"...you're such an idiot."
sunday mornings are her favourite.
-
ew so cheesy