Mimi is not a morning person. Her parents know this, all of her friends know this, her girlfriend knows this. It's just how it is; she wakes slowly and needs at least a full coffee mug before she utters her first coherent words. She won't – can't – answer to anyone before coffee because her brain simply doesn't work that way. It is a fundamental rule in her life that everyone has learned to respect.

So understanding why Bora's frozen index is tickling her ribs before 8am on the first Sunday of December is beyond her cognitive abilities.

She pretends she can't feel anything at first, simply rolls away from Bora and her annoying hands and almost falls asleep again. The bed is warm and the pillow is just right, her entire body relaxed because it knows she has no obligations today - but then Bora's knees are digging into her back, and she can feel Bora's body hovering above her without looking. She brings a chill into Mimi's comfortable cocoon.
To add insult to injury, Bora's cold nose grazes her cheeks and her breath tickles Mimi's neck. She shivers and tries to retreat deep, deep inside her mind where nothing Bora seems ready to unleash on her can reach her. She's floating far away on a tropical island, the sun hot on her skin and the sand soft around her feet.

"Wake up sleepyhead."

An airy kiss drops on her temple.

She reaches for the quilt and pulls it over her head. She'll deal with Bora's complete lack of respect later, after another 2 hours of rest. There, peace again. It's too hot and she hates that the air comes back in her face after she breathes out, but it's better than being awake.

Of course Bora decides to join her in her hideout . In one swift move she sticks the front of her body to Mimi's back and slips an arm over her waist. For a moment nothing moves. Mimi waits for the next attack but everything is still, with only the regular breath of Bora on her neck and the cold of her nose sipping through Mimi's pajamas. She's okay with acting as Bora's personal heater if it means they can both drift back to sleep. Mimi even goes as far as wiggle her to get closer to Bora because, well. She does love being the little spoon. Bora kisses her shoulder lightly and it's really nice. She isn't asleep but she is warm, and safe, and loved; it's almost as good.

Then, of course, because Bora loves to lull her into a false sense of security for her blows to be more efficient, she whispers:

"Wake up baby, it snowed."

To which Mimi answers:

"Urhgn."

Bora giggles softly against her shoulderblades and Mimi can't help a tiny smile from tugging at her lips. There's only one thing in the world she can find adorable before coffee, and it just so happens to be stuck to her back like a barnacle to a rock.

How unfortunate.

"C'mon, I made breakfast," the devil keeps on whispering right against her ear. The words seem to slowly ghost over her lobe before they make their way to her ear-drum. "Your coffee will get cold."

The thought of cold coffee is not one she wishes to entertain. In her honest opinion, the very concept of it belongs in the garbage along with morning workouts and early meetings.

Bora's hand slips under her pajama top to rest against her stomach, her thumb slowly the skin around her belly button, and for a very brief second Mimi considers turning around to kiss her. The thought vanishes as quickly as it came because using any kind of muscle to move is out of the question. Bora's hand is still a little cold; it makes her shiver again.

Her hopes of continuing her night are hanging by a thread, but she clings to them desperately. Until Bora – Satan himself, the embodiement of all evil on earth – brushes Mimi's hair aside and kisses her neck. Again. And Again. Feather-like little things that make Mimi shudder and squirm in a weak attempt to get away, but she knows it's too late.

She's awake.

That warrants the deepest sigh she can muster. When she turns around, she accidentally digs a knee into Bora's thigh and doesn't apologize.

Only a grey light reaches them under the covers but she can still see that Bora looks more awake than she has any right to be, with shiny eyes and rosy cheeks. The tip of her nose is all red. She's smiling the soft smile that Mimi thinks is reserved just for her, and Mimi's chest does that thing, that Bora loves me thing that it always does when Bora is open and comfortable in front of her.

And it's stupid how it's been years and how Mimi is still head over heels in love. Stupid and really, really wonderful.

It's a too dark under the covers and she's starting to sweat, so she takes the very brave decision to tug them down so their faces emerge. The more tolerable air of the room is an immediate relief.

"Hey," Bora says.

"Hn," Mimi mumbles as she rubs her eyes. "Need coffee."

"It's ready for you in the kitchen." A beat. "There's snow everywhere."

Bora's excitement is barely contained. Mimi can hear she made an effort, but her impatience is written in the corner of , where she's trying to control her grin.

And the thing is, Mimi is warm and doesn't want to think about snow, or winter, or outside right now. She feels like staying in bed all day and pretending they're the only two humans left on earth – humans, not beings, because Mr Paws is sleeping on Bora's favorite pullover in the armchair and his purrs fit perfectly into her fantasy day. She doesn't even really want to get up for breakfast.

She kisses Bora and swings her legs out of the bed, because somehow doing things for Bora makes them less of a pain in the .