He drifted slowly into consciousness as soft rays of sunlight dyed his bedroom in warm shades of gold and orange. He was happy, so fundamentally happy like he hadn't been in quite some time. And then, gently, it dawned on him. Kate. She had come – and she had stayed, and everything after was absolute bliss in his unbelieving mind. But it had definitely happened – the sheets and cushions were still in obvious chaos, and he saw her clothes rambled in a sloppy pile next to his bed. So where was she?
Just as he had managed to untangle the blankets from his feet and legs, he saw her, barefoot and wearing nothing but one of his white shirts. God, he would never forget this picture of her amazing beauty plunged in the golden morning light, her messy curls framing the most wonderful smile on her lips and in her eyes. Oh, was that coffee in her hands? He hadn't noticed. Though one could argue he was also gravely distracted by the exposed length of her legs.
"Good morning" she said with a sleepy husk in her voice and stood still on the doorframe.
"Hey" was the best he could do, a permanent smile curving in his cheeks. She seemed uncertain what to do and her gaze wandered around quite shyly without resting on his.
"You're here."
"I'm not planning on leaving, too.", she looked up, "if you don't mind me hanging around, that is." He grinned and she did, too, pacing softly towards his nightstand to place the coffee beside them. For a second it felt like everything was just like always, their banter and coffee and that kind of familiarity they always seemed to share. Well, except Kate was sitting on the edge of his bed and his shirt was way too large to cover her skin where her skin was usually covered; slipping slightly lower with every breath she was taking.