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Michelle woke up slowly, feeling a weight on her breast. Looking down, she sees her one and only love: Willow. Her brunette hair draped across her face, arms wrapped around Michelle's waist, lipstick still on her cheek from the night before.
Last night, they had ran around the streets of New York City, simply enjoying each other's company wherever they chose to visit. They had spent hours wandering around the Met, where Michelle had pointed to every blank space, claiming Willow's art would one day end up on that wall, covering that spot (and that spot, and that spot...) to which Willow would flush and mumble something about how I'm not that good, Mich. Michelle would always scoff and say Yes you are, Will, darling. One of Michelle's favorite things was listening to Willow's excited explanations about the significance of every paint stroke and color choice. She could listen to the soft lull of her voice forever. Michelle had never been able to stop talking, but when Willow spoke, she would always fall silent.
Afterwards, they had gone to a cute diner before making the walk to Central Park. They had found a bench off to the side, the brisk wind sending chills up their spines. They had cuddled closer in the moonlight before daring to slow dance, Michelle decorating as much of Willow's accessible skin (which was minimal, considering she was completely bundled up by this point) with her dark purple kisses. She loved the sound of Willow's giggles as she peppered her face.
A slight shift on top of her drew her from the fond memory. Looking down once more, Willow has begun to wake.
"Go' m'rnin' Mich," she groggled, clearly not quite half-awake.
Michelle lightly laughed. "Good morning to you too, darling." Willow's cheeks immediately flushed. 'Darling' had always gotten to her bad. Michelle absolutely adored it. It was perhaps one of her favorite things to stare at.
"I 'on't wanna ge' up," Willow complained. "I'm comfy." A light chuckle escapes Michelle despite her best efforts. "What?" she whined.
"You're just so adorable, my dear Willow." At the slight glare from her exhausted girlfriend, she continues. "We can stay here as long as we want." It was a Saturday, anyway. It wasn't like either of them had anything important to do. Except Michelle's most recent book she had started, but she'll be okay. Probably. Oh and that essay for her English class. And the remainder of that stupid history essay she's been procrastinating on. And that proje-
"Michelle?"
"Hmm?" she hummed.
"You still with me? You spaced out again. You're not thinking about your homework while you're cuddling with me first thing in the morning, right?" A beat. "Michelle..." she groaned.
"I'm sorry, love, I got..."
"Space-y? Distracted?" Willow offered.
"Yeah..."
"It's alright, Mich. I know your brain doesn't ever stop. It's one of the things I love about you." She drops a kiss onto the nearest skin she could reach, which happened to be her collarbone. It was now Michelle's turn to become extraordinarily flustered. She was actually positive her melted brain had seeped out through her ear onto her pillow.
"I love you so much Willow. I don't deserve you, oh my god."
Willow sits up just enough to push herself closer to Michelle's face and lands a light peck onto her lips, her hair tickling Michelle's skin. "You do, Mich." Another peck. "Stop saying that." Another peck. "C'mon and cuddle me, I wanna go back to sleep." One final peck landed on Michelle's lips.
She lightly smirked. "Yes, ma'am," and flipped them over so she was on top, shoving her nose into the crook of her neck. "Good night, my cleric."
It was Willow's turn to chuckle from beneath her. "Good night, my dear paladin."