The first filaments of light string in through your door and the need to shoo away a certain intruder from your unguarded drowsiness arises.

“Go away, Ray,” your voice falters, unused to breaking the departing night's quiet.

“Good morning to you, too,” he whispers alarmingly loudly. Swiftly creeping in beneath your covers, his slim, long arms find their way around your squirming waist.

Behind your ear, he breathes with a shiver, “Good night.”

“If my mother catches us,” you begin, unused to such an early morning greeting. You attempt to move away, but his nimble limbs catch your sluggish body in their grasp.

His chest is warm and pounding against your back, but is slowing down with sleepiness. You close your eyes, suddenly alert and counting the seconds in this endless moment.

One, two, three…

After a while, you lose count and are suddenly tempted to turn around and steal a glance at his catlike eyes with the quickly brightening sunlight. Before you can make a move, his tired body relaxes against yours as his breathing grows languid with sleep after murmuring a soft reminder, “No school today. She can't catch me unless you let me stay.”