"John, what are you doing?" It is far too early for this. You aren't supposed to be awake right now. It's the weekend; you're supposed to be curled up against your fiancé, warm and asleep, instead of watching him as he struggles to pull his pants on with the grace (and noise level) of an elephant. You can't think of any reason why he is disrupting your routine to get dressed, and your sleep-deprived mind doesn't care enough to figure it out for itself. Really, you're too preoccupied with how cold you are without him in bed with you to care about the reason behind his behaviour.
"Ah! Rose, sorry, I didn't mean to wake you! Shit, I'm late, I just gotta- Ah ha!" He lets out a shout of victory when he finally manages to pull his pants up, and were you not so sleep and cuddle deprived you would have rolled your eyes. As it is you're tempted to just roll over and let him go about his day without question. But he definitely doesn't have work today, and as much as you would like to punish him for mindlessly waking you up by letting him find that out for himself once he arrives at work, you'd really prefer he climb back into bed with you and get a few more hours of sleep, so you'll be merciful and help him figure it out.
"Can you do me a favour?" John pauses in his attempts of putting his tie on properly to look at you, curious, and you smile, gesturing towards the calendar hanging on your wall. "Could you tell me what day it is, please?" You watch as his brow furrows in confusion before he turns away from you to look at the calendar, humming as he searches for the day.
"It's Saturday." There's a moment of silence following his words, and then he's pulling his clothes off again, placing his glasses on the nearest drawers before he climbs back into bed with you. He looks flustered, and you pat his cheek lightly before resting your head on his shoulder, wrapping your arms around him. "You could have told me it was Saturday, you know." You can tell by the tone of his voice that he's pouting, but he wraps his arms tight around you while he says it, so you doubt he'll be sulking for long. Really, you don't actually care so long as you can get more sleep.
"That would make your life too easy, my dear. What kind of partner would I be if I didn't push you to better yourself?" You glance up at him, laughing at the annoyed face he's pulling before you cup his cheeks and guide his face close enough to yours for you to kiss him. You can feel him smile against your lips moments later, and you know you're forgiven. "Now, can we please get some more sleep? Believe it or not I am still tired." He grins at that, nodding before he shuffles down on the bed, burying his face into your neck as his arm curls over your waist.
"Yeah. Good morning, Rose." You smile, pressing a kiss to his forehead before you turn onto your side, lying an arm over his shoulder and curling the other beneath your pillow before you settle down, closing your eyes. The last thing your feel is his breath against you skin and his warmth surrounding you, soothing you back to sleep.
I give up on writing anything of quality. It's obviously not going to happen.