I woke up in my lovers arms, as usual, just like any other morning. 
The toxic; yet alluring smell of filled the air, mixed exotically with the smell of cotten candy. 
Lay rolled up against me, tightening his grip around my waist and adjusting his face further into my nest of hair.
This moment; right here was always my favourite part of my day. 
Before we each got up and tried to be adults again.
Where we could just sleep in, wrapped into each others warmth; with our limbs intermingled with each others.

Sunday mornings are my favourite time of the week.

I pulled myself reluctantly out of bed and made my way into the conjoined kitchen across from our big futon.
My lack of clothes made no difference in my long journey to the kettle; conveniently already filled with water.
The morning breeze gently grazed over my bare body, creating small tingles as each tendril of the fringe curtain at my thighs. 
I walked quickly over to the wide window, leaning my chest over the railing as i pulled back the latch.

A snaking of arms around my waist pulled my body against another equally one. 
Lays face buried deep into my neck, and his manhood limp aginst my lower back.
There, we simply stood; with the curtains pulled back, staring out over our city.
The city we fell in love with and the city we'd always be in.

"It's too early"

"It's nearly midday"

Lay groaned against the nape of my neck, breathing out hot air; causing my tousled tendrils to fly out.
The heat of my lover left me an instant later.
The kettle whistling; was a far off noise to me as i looked at my boyfriend, sitting on the small sofa by the kitchen.
His eyes; usually half closed in thought, were now concentrated on the small piece of thin paper between his fingers.
Lay rolled a joint delicately between his fingers; quickly swiping out his tongue along the edge to make it stick.
Such small movements; movements that most people wouldn't notice, that i relished in.

Lay was a quiet personality, unless you got him excited.
His simplness was what attracted him i think.
He never begged for attention; nor expected it.
Lay would be perfectly happy in his own company.

I first met him in a marketplace corner three years ago.
He had his fringe hanging down over his nose; leaning over an overturned crate.
Rolling a joint.

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