You’re not ready to wake up, but he’s an early riser, so his eyes are opened. He reaches down to touch you, and when you respond with happy little whimpers like you usually do, he initiates the most gentle sex you’ve ever had. After it’s over, he gets ready for his day while you fall back asleep.
You’re fast asleep again. You don’t feel it, but he occasionally walks in to press his lips against your forehead. He hopes you wake up soon, so he has someone to talk to, but he’s not selfish enough to disturb you when he knows you need your rest.
You finally wake up. It’s still early, according to you, but you can hear him in the other room and since you hate being a mere ten feet away from him, you get up and get dressed. Why postpone staring your day when you know you’re going to have a good one?
He offers to make you breakfast, but you decline. You don’t want to make him do any work on the weekend, so you both settle for eating cereal. In between bites, you tell him about the zombie apocalypse nightmare you had and he tells you about the bizarre sex dream he had.
You’re wide awake by now, but you’re not really in the mood to move, so you turn on the television. It’s too early to find anything worth watching, so you have to choose between being sickened by the news or switching to Netflix and searching for a new show. You choose Netflix.
You’ve been watching old episodes of It’s Always Sunny In Philadelphia for a while now, but it’s still technically morning, so you decide to keep watching until noon. After all, you’ve been resting your head on your boyfriend’s lap, and it’s too comfy for you to even think about moving.
It’s time for you to eat lunch, but as soon as you open up the fridge, you realize that grocery shopping is long overdo. You create whatever you can out of the random assortment of food you have left, and then write out a grocery list while you both chow down.
You go to the supermarket, list in hand. You’ve always hated food shopping, but for some strange reason, it’s actually entertaining when you two go together. He holds your hand as you walk around, and you imagine that everyone you pass is thinking about what a cute couple you are. Whenever you pass an elderly couple, you’ll say the same thing about them, and you’ll wonder if you’ll look that happy in fifty years. You hope so.
You’re back at home, putting the food away in the cabinets. It’s a simple job, but it takes a while, because your boyfriend keeps pausing to hug you from behind and kiss your neck. Pretty soon, you’re doing something inappropriate on top of the kitchen counter. It’s a good thing you remembered to pick up cleaner, because you’re going to need it later.
Your best friend texts you, asking if you want to go out drinking later that night. You tell your boyfriend about it, and even though you agree that you’d rather stay in and relax, you don’t want to be the couple who isolates themselves, so you accept the invitation.
You want to eat an actual dinner, because you know you’ll be stuck munching on greasy bar food later, so you turn on the oven. You don’t mind cooking, because whenever you make a meal, your boyfriend does the washing up, and vice versa. It’s a good system. You do an equal amount of housework, so you never feel overworked or unappreciated.
Dinner is ready. You eat together at an actual table with the TV off, so you have the opportunity to talk about the work week. You fill him in about everything that’s happened to you, and you wait for him to do the same. There are no secrets between you. None at all.
You meet a group of your friends at the bar. They all have exciting stories about their single life, but all of your stories are about your blissfully boring boyfriend. They feel bad for you, but you feel bad for them.
Your best friend drags you over to the dance floor while your boyfriend sits by the biggest screen in the bar with a group of guys he met through you. Neither of you mind being separated. You don’t have to be together constantly in order to have a good time.
You’re tipsy, so your boyfriend looks even sexier than he usually does. You can’t wait to get him home alone. When no one else is looking, you kiss him passionately and tell him what you have in store for him later on.
You’re pretty drunk by now. Your friends are urging you to do another shot, but your boyfriend thinks it would be best for you to call it a night, because he cares more about your health than about having fun. You know he’s right.
You make up an excuse about work, so you two can head home. Your friends think you’re leaving way too early, but you think you’ve stayed way too late. After all, you want to have enough time to relax on the couch with your boyfriend before you go to bed.
By the time you actually make it to your couch, your clothes are off. There was one too many times throughout the night when you wanted to climb on top of your boyfriend, but couldn’t, and the anticipation got the best of you. You might be a little sloppy from the alcohol, but you two fit together so well that it doesn’t matter. Each smooch is still amazing.
After wiping off your makeup and slipping into your pajamas, you fall asleep in bed with your head on his chest. You feel safe. You feel at ease. You feel like you’re right where you were always meant to be.