My alarm goes off. It's 8:15. I have to be at work by 9:30. Still. I can't seem to get myself to leave the warmth of the arms I'm nestled in. I'm lying on my back, and he's curled around me, cheek pressed against the top of my head, one leg tossed casually over my thighs, it's weight heavy and reassuring. I can't move. Not that I want to. I liberate one arm, and hit snooze.
I sigh, and settle back into the cocoon. We're sticky with the sweat of sleep, but I don't care. The alarm beeps again. 8:40. Now I've really pushed it. I untangle myself limb by limb, and head reluctantly for the fastest shower in the history of the world.
I turn on some music and blowdry my hair, while the Prince sleeps on steadily, ensnarled in a mess of sheets and covers. How he manages to create this web in the 10 minutes I am gone is beyond me. I jump on top of him and kiss him 20 times, "goodbye, my love." His eyes are heavy with sleep, he's only half awake. He mumbles softly, "I miss you already."
I smile, my heart full, but he's already drifted back to his dreams. I hope they are sweet.