Rhiannon's POV

The sun warmed the gray comforter. John stirred a little, placing his rough hand against the skin of her back. Rhiannon stretched lazily, yawning in the morning sunlight.

"Good morning," she crooned.

John mumbled something unintelligible.

Rhiannon peppered kisses across his face.

"Go back to sleep, it's Sunday morning," John groaned.

"It's barely morning," Rhiannon chided. She rolled over to check her phone and then looked back to him. "It's ...