Written by Chippy, of course. Not much to say, sorry this isn't more exciting.
The sun was floating steadily upwards, casting its colors of dawn on Great Britain. Kingsley's face caught a few rays, his eyelids creeping open, the bright white and solid brown becoming aware. Sunday; his one day off of work. His occupation was not restricted to nine to five, five days a week, paid three weeks vacation, or so on. However, this particular Sunday he wasn't working. Not even for the Order. The whole day for his leisure, and yet he felt the day tugging at him to toss the covers aside and do something. There were working Order members he could assist, information he could gather, spells that even he had yet to master. There were books he could read and journals he could write and Quidditch or football that he could practice. He gave in to this drive, his long muscular legs swiveling to the side and his feet quietly hitting the floor.
Kingsley stood, stretched, and gave himself an early morning shake. His dreads danced, his bare upper body expanded and contracted with a few deep breaths, and his feet, exposed beneath a pair of dark blue sweatpants, took him a few steps forwards, not even pausing movement as he woke himself up. Coffee was a logical place to start, but Kingsley paused as his hand rested on the wooden banister that would lead him downstairs.
Productivity was not the only thing that tugged at him. His most selfish indulgence was there as well; the desire to return to bed, although he might disturb her sleep. He wanted to let that peace envelop him again, and even the thought brought a flash of his teeth in a smile. Kingsley turned around again, his eyes not daring to stray to her yet, because he knew that would cause his resistance to collapse like the pop of a bubble.
Too often he had to depart early, but even still, he'd never slept better than when she accompanied him to bed. It gave him a reason to sleep, one that he'd never had before. He could let his responsibilities be tame for several hours and let himself rest. Consciously, he was aware that he could be accomplishing other things, yet this sleep had never felt like a waste of time, as it had in the past. He used to deprive himself, but now he actually, surprisingly, relaxed. He couldn't deny how appealing it was to steal a few more hours.
Kingsley stepped to the window, his eyes observing the early morning while his mind began to register his remaining fatigue. The bakery was already open, bicycles already bustled past, and birds in a nearby tree set to work on their nest. The world was moving, but he retreated. Again, he gave in, his face easing almost the instant he acknowledged the imminent decision. He returned to his unmade side, slipped the blankets over himself, and tried as gently as possible to move to the center. Kingsley's arms weaved around Madison, lightly at first to avoid waking her. He pressed a light kiss to her soft hair, his heart easing to a beat of content, although he still felt a slight thrill at his core. He never got over that; it always made his smile spark again.
"Morning, Madison." He spoke quietly, not intending for her to listen, his deep voice a rumble. Kingsley's eyes closed again, the time restraints that plagued him going silent, his body loosening muscle by muscle. Later he would make coffee cake, but for now his thoughts settled in the present, drifting serenely.