A/N: I don't think this quite warrants an M-rating, but there are minor suggestive hints running throughout this lil' oneshot. It's extremely short (in fact, if there's one thing I know I need to improve on this, it's the length) but I only wanted a quick little read to portray an idea for those who like fluff.
Enjoy.
7 A.M.
Momoka focussed on the far right, making out shapes and faces in the wallpaper patterns as she lay in her four-poster bed. The early-morning sunlight shined through the window, casting shadows and landscapes across the luxury room. She could faintly hear the tinkle of china and cutlery in the kitchens downstairs, so many miles away to her. What mattered right now was what was taking place in this room.
She brushed her teal fringe from her face, the disturbed strands falling across her forehead. Turning her back on the wall, she stared at the sleeping form of her lover, taking in his morning appearance. Fuyuki's hair was splayed across the pristine pillow, his mouth slightly open as the sound of his slow breathing brought reality closer to Momoka.
She leaned closer to him, closer until her tousled hair tickled his cheek and her lips touched the very tip of his nose. And finally, he stirred from slumber, his sleepy eyes meeting hers.
"Good morning, Fuyuki-kun ..." Momoka whispered, peeling the heavy quilt from Fuyuki's torso, "you slept well."
Fuyuki moaned sleepily, audible only to Momoka, and shifted slightly, raising his head from the pillow. Momoka bowed her head a minute angle, so that his lips met with hers. The telltale heat of a blush crept up in Momoka's cheeks, as well as the all-too-familiar butterflies rousing in her stomach from their sleep. She gave a small gasp, inviting Fuyuki to deepen the kiss as they moved, lying back onto her pillow.
Her nightdress was creased, and had rode up around her hips in a most undignified fashion during the night. Her hair was a mess, spiking from her scalp. A normal girl would have worried about her passionate kisses and the awkward but determined fumbling. Had she been doing it right, making him feel good?
But Momoka - despite her usual demure presentation and her rich-gal status - didn't care. What's more, she didn't want it any other way.
This was their moment.