You smooth my hair back from my face and smile down at me. It's past time for me to be up and dressed, and I know I'll have to skip breakfast - again - to make it to class on time. I just can't bring myself to regret the missed meal though. The wind howls past the apartment window, a testament to the raging storm I'll soon have to walk to campus in, and I groan as I throw off the blankets shielding us from the chill of the air conditioned air. I slide out of bed, dodging the arm you throw out to keep me in our comfy little hollow in the matress. I can't miss class and you know it, but that doesn't stop you from throwing that heart breaking pout my way in an attempt to get me to come back to bed. I dress mechanically and stuff a change of clothes in my waterproof backpack as I'm sure I will be completely soaked by the time I make it to campus. I don't know why you're suddenly grinning at me, until I realize that I'm wearing your tee shirt. Maybe I won't change clothes at school after all. I can feel your eyes on me as I brush my teeth and put on a minimal amount of make-up. When I look up at you, watching me from the bed, you just smile and point to the clock. I'm going to be late. I rush around looking for my keys and you simply slip out of bed to hand them to me from where I put them on the nightstand. You brush my hair back one last time and kiss my lips before helping me settle my backpack over my raincoat and guiding me to the door. One last kiss and I'm gone- sprinting to campus to make my class on time. Why is it always so hard to get out of bed on your days off?
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