7

“Baekhyun, every time… “ I wriggle under his arm draped over me more heavily than a spectator would surmise. He turns and deposits his leg around my calves, further trapping me on the bed. His eyes are still closed, but I know he is at least half awake by now so I knock on his head and hiss, “I need to get dressed.”

“Don’t,” he mumbles into the blanket, hand starting to move along my waist. “You’re softer like this.”

“Well into your thirties and still acting like a hormonal teenage boy,” I grouse, containing my body's instinctive reactions to his touch. “Baekhyun, we’re not going to do this on a work morning. I quite enjoy being able to walk like a normal person.” Experience taught me that he has just a bit more stamina—drive, if you will— than I do.

He chuckles in his typical sleepy fashion and smooches the ball of my shoulder. “Okay, I’m sorry. Let’s get ready now.”

Our schedules conveniently weave together, and there is no doubt Baekhyun had used his CEO role to manipulate some workings to achieve as such. I had tried to avoid exploiting our relationship when it came to my employment, like by interviewing for his company without his knowledge, but I forgave this matter once he convinced me that there was no particular benefit to having the specific hours. That is, aside from having my boyfriend to myself in the morning, amidst his ever-hec