I awoke Saturday morning to Shawn’s arms wrapped tightly around me. It was basically my favorite way to wake up. I knew it had to be early because he was still in bed. Instead of letting myself go back to sleep like I really wanted to, I pried myself from his death grip and got out of bed.
He groaned and stretched his arms out, his hands grabbing like a baby looking for its bottle. It was so adorable.
I debated waking him up, but I knew he would be up soon anyway.
I looked at the clock, 5:23 AM. Oh Goddess. What in the absolute hell am I doing to myself?
I went downstairs and made myself some ice coffee ASAP. The house was still dark and quiet, and it was spooky.
This is why I don’t get up early. It has nothing to do with me being a lazy ass.
By the time I got back upstairs, Shawn
