“Breakfast in bed?” she murmured, her voice still husky with sleep. “What’s the occasion?”

His voice was a low, morning rumble. She smiled, keeping her eyelids sealed. She heard the clink of a ceramic mug, the soft squeak of him settling onto the edge of the bed.

“Deadlines can wait.” He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her temple, his thumb lingering on her cheekbone. “The way you looked last night, falling asleep with your head on my chest… that can’t.”

She propped herself up, the thin sheet slipping down to her waist. She wore one of his old band t-shirts, faded to the color of dust. He watched her read the card. It wasn’t long—just four words in his messy scrawl.

“I have a deadline,” she whispered, already knowing she wouldn’t meet it.

He slid under the sheets beside her, the tray pushed gently to the foot of the bed. And for a long, slow hour, the only thing that mattered was the sound of their breathing, the taste of syrup on his lips, and the quiet promise that some mornings, the best thing you can do is absolutely nothing at all.

In Bed- -720p- - Nubilefilms - Emily Grey -breakfast

“Breakfast in bed?” she murmured, her voice still husky with sleep. “What’s the occasion?”

His voice was a low, morning rumble. She smiled, keeping her eyelids sealed. She heard the clink of a ceramic mug, the soft squeak of him settling onto the edge of the bed. NubileFilms - Emily Grey -Breakfast In Bed- -720p-

“Deadlines can wait.” He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her temple, his thumb lingering on her cheekbone. “The way you looked last night, falling asleep with your head on my chest… that can’t.” “Breakfast in bed

She propped herself up, the thin sheet slipping down to her waist. She wore one of his old band t-shirts, faded to the color of dust. He watched her read the card. It wasn’t long—just four words in his messy scrawl. She heard the clink of a ceramic mug,

“I have a deadline,” she whispered, already knowing she wouldn’t meet it.

He slid under the sheets beside her, the tray pushed gently to the foot of the bed. And for a long, slow hour, the only thing that mattered was the sound of their breathing, the taste of syrup on his lips, and the quiet promise that some mornings, the best thing you can do is absolutely nothing at all.