Emma stretched until she felt her vertebrate pop. She rolled over to where her wife should have been, but wasn’t surprised by the lack of body heat on the other side of the bed.
She kicked off the blankets and basked for a moment in the early morning sunrise. She enjoyed the prickling sensation of warmth cocooning her in languid comfort.
A soft knock announced Regina’s entrance; in her arms was a breakfast tray. The oven warmed plate held sunny-side eggs that practically oozed onto the golden toast.
A tall glass of milk sat beside the food. Emma preferred orange juice in the morning, but in their household they never drank anything acidic on an empty stomach.
“Breakfast in bed?” Emma licked her lips as she leaned her back against the headboard.
“What’s the occasion?” Her eyes shot wide in alarm, the lethargic fog of being barely awake dissipated immediately.
“Did I forget something, oh fuck, I mean duck! Regina, don’t just smirk at me, Christ! Shit!”
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