Harper
Her reluctance is familiar, grumbles and crinkled brow practically anticipated to the second with how they have become second nature to his morning routine. Harper remains undaunted in his winning streak of rousing the Queen however, and when she emerges from the blankets bed-tousled and bleary-eyed, his smile is soft with an unspeakable fondness. That smile presses itself easily to her own mouth as she pulls him down, dropping to his elbows from his palms to better accommodate her demands, laughter muffled against her lips.
“I know I know, count my blessings and all that,” he responds cheekily, having heard most of her mild threats and complaints that always emerge when she is being reluctantly awoken. Scooting up to the headboard to join her in their meal, Harper sipping at his own coffee in contrast to her tea. Chuckling at her eagerness, he lifts an idle hand to gently comb through her hair, fingertips tracing against her scalp in mindless self-indulgence. “If you haven’t gotten it out of me yet, what makes you think you’ll get it now?” it’s muffled around the rim of his mug, but his smirk is entirely apparent, blue eyes mischievous.
“I know I know, count my blessings and all that,” he responds cheekily, having heard most of her mild threats and complaints that always emerge when she is being reluctantly awoken. Scooting up to the headboard to join her in their meal, Harper sipping at his own coffee in contrast to her tea. Chuckling at her eagerness, he lifts an idle hand to gently comb through her hair, fingertips tracing against her scalp in mindless self-indulgence. “If you haven’t gotten it out of me yet, what makes you think you’ll get it now?” it’s muffled around the rim of his mug, but his smirk is entirely apparent, blue eyes mischievous.
When you're lost I'll show you the way back home
I'll stay until the morning comes, and show you how to live again
I'll stay until the morning comes, and show you how to live again
