Chapter Text
A sliver of light broke through the heavy blanket of sleep wrapped snugly around Lightning’s mind. It shone through her eyelids, persistently growing brighter in spite of her desire to sink back into dreams. Within minutes, her own body betrayed her, eyes opening to a squint and paralysis rapidly fading. On another day, she might have given in and climbed out of bed. Given that the previous night had involved Snow, Fang, and booze, however, she shunned the daylight seeping through a gap in the curtains and rolled onto her side.
Hope was still fast asleep, his bare back to her and his arms tight around a pillow. That wasn’t very fair. Lightning pulled herself closer to him and as far away from the streak of sun as possible. She shut her eyes again and furtively hugged her undisturbed partner from behind. His was a warmth she preferred to the sun, especially when the sun was hellbent on keeping her from sleeping in. It lingered in the corner of her vision, taunting her.
She could have simply gotten up and pulled the curtains shut. It was easy, and it would fix everything. But Lightning felt lazy this morning. Lazy and stubborn.
So, she sinned. She woke Hope up with a whisper.
“Hope. Hope, wake up.”
Hope stirred. A low grunt interrupted his slow breathing and his leg jerked. A few seconds later, he let out a conscious, approving hum.
“Morning,” Lightning said.
“Morning, Light.”
“Sorry to wake you.”
“Hm? No, that’s fine.” Hope yawned. “Little spoon is great.”
Lightning sighed. Hope was too cute when he was half awake. She kissed the back of his neck and traced a circle on his stomach with her finger. Part of her wanted to keep him here like this: overwhelmingly comfortable, pleasantly sluggish, and slowly drowning in oxytocin. Alas, she had a task for him.
“Hey, Hope. Could you do something for me?”
“Anything,” Hope said, followed by another yawn.
“I need you to close the curtains.”
Silence followed. Hesitant silence, if Lightning’s guess was right. But, after a prolonged pause, Hope slipped from her hold, rose to his feet, and placed a kiss on her forehead.
“Sure, Light.”
Hope lugged himself to the window, pinched the edge of one curtain, and closed the gap with a light tug. With proper darkness restored, he retraced his steps to Lightning’s waiting embrace and settled back into bed. “Better?”
“Much better,” Lightning said. She took a deep breath and let her grievances with the sun fizzle out. It was dark now, Hope was her body pillow, and they had absolutely nothing planned for the day. A complete victory. Satisfied, Lightning welcomed the calm waves of drowsiness to the shores of her consciousness. She didn’t count the time—her senses would fade when they were ready. Until then, she could enjoy the smooth touch of Hope’s skin and the lingering pine scent of his shampoo. These were exclusive luxuries, after all. Perhaps she’d remind him how much she appreciated them once they woke up again.