The soft glow of the rising sun fluttered into the room from the cracks in the blinds. Montagne grunts as his eyes open up a fraction, the dim light shining over them. He waits for his vision clears before opening them fully. Brown eyes shining brightly.
The mattress creaks as Montange tries to sit up, but found himself being weighted down by the other man curled up next to him, arms wrapped tightly around his waist.
He attempts to move again and Thatcher groans.
"What time is it?" Thatcher mumbles as he buries his face deeper into the other man's back. Montange looks over to the digital clock that rest on the small nightstand.
"7:30." He replies which gets another groan from the Brit.
"Too early, stay in bed." The Frenchmen can't help but to chuckle softly. Surprised that Thatcher was not the morning person he sought him out to be. But he smiles as he settles himself back into bed. Shifting his position so he was now facing Thatcher.
Montagne's eyes looked over the others sleeping face, a smile still pulling at his lips. He leans forward to plants a light kiss onto Thatcher's nose before going back to sleep.
Yeah, he can spare himself a few more hours of rest.