So, I've decided to give this story a little makeover. Revamp it, I'd say.
Disclaimer: Own, I do not. Love you, I do not. Clean my room, I do not. d^_^b
Third person point-of-view
A messy expanse of tangled red hair stuck to the sleep-warmed cheeks of one Jezebel "Jez" Redfern.
What time is it? she thought groggily, glancing at the clock beside her and her boyfriend's, Morgead, bed. 10:24, I need to get up.
She attempted to swing her legs off the bed but all she got was a sharp twinge in her legs. She groaned aloud. It happened most mornings, you see. Her muscles were tight and stiff from many hours of disuse.
Or it was possible she was still half asleep.
She stared up at the bumpy texture of the ceiling.
She sighed, opening her eyes wide and taking deep breaths, trying to wake herself up fully.
After a few moments of thoughtful silence, she opened her mouth, abandoning the thought of getting up on her own.
"Morg!" she called, her voice scratchy from disuse. He didn't answer.
Morg, she called through the mind link that only they shared.
Yeah? he replied.
I can't get out of bed again, she said with the mental equivalent of a pout.
She heard him laugh through the link as the front door to their apartment was shut.
He walked through the bedroom door and she was struck again with thoughts of how lucky she was to have this man all to herself.
"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty," he said with deep bow. Although she thought him silly, she couldn't help but grin at his amusing antics.
"Yeah, whatever. Grab my arms," she commanded.
Morgead sighed, and with a chuckle, picked her up bridal style.
Now cocooned in his arms, she relaxed as the stiffness in her body melted away.
"Okay, you can let me go now," she said with a decisive wiggle.
"Mmm, ya know, I don't think I want to put you down just yet," he said smugly.
"Put me down!" she yelled, struggling to get out of his arms.
He rolled his eyes and pecked her nose the set her feet on the ground.
"Thank you," she said, straightening her shirt.
She gave him a quick, sweet smile and darted into the bathroom to brush her teeth.
Walking out of the bathroom, she noticed a delicious scent coming from the kitchen.
Like a trained hunting dog, she followed the tantalizing scent with her nose high in the air. What her nose led her to though, made her freeze in shock.
Her boyfriend was in the kitchen. And was he actually cooking?
She felt dizziness consume her with the unexpected shock.
After a moment, she gained control of her mouth and spoke. "What are you doing?" she asked as she watched him crack eggs into a bowl.
"Shut up and sit down," he told her flatly while pouring batter of some kind onto a griddle; he made six small circles so she guessed them to be pancakes.
"What are-?" but he shut her up by stuffing something into her mouth.
"Ohh," she moaned slightly as she registered the tart sweetness of fresh strawberries.
He smirked and turned back to his task at hand.
She watched him for a few moments until she became indescribably bored.
She was about to walk through the swinging door that would lead her into the living room when Morgead swung his spoon to point at her.
"Stop!" The same spoon he was using to stir the batter.
She looked at him with a glare as she wiped the batter off of her left cheek and arm.
He stared in shock for a moment a look coming over his face that said "oh, god, what did I just do?" but then that look turned thoughtful and soon a smirk broke out.
She sighed heavily and was about to send him a scathing remark when a something occurred to her-
I wonder if I just . . .
And suddenly, her arm shot out and she grabbed a handful of sliced strawberries. She slung the almost slimy fruit at her boyfriend, whose face was slowly changing from one of smug satisfaction to one of absolute horror.
He dodged but despite Morgead's best efforts, a small amount of strawberry still found its way to his hair. He glared at her and this time, Jez was grinning with smug satisfaction.
She had just enough time to duck before six small pancakes flew over her head.
Grabbing a carton of eggs, she chucked them like grenades, one after another.
One splattered on the very center of his chest and ruined his black shirt. His favorite black shirt.
Royally pissed, he blindly grabbed the first thing in his reach.
He was squeezing the bottle of chocolate sauce before he even realized what it was. Chocolate sauce came squirting out, covering her hair and face in dark brown, sugary rings.
She screeched and grabbed the tub of whipped topping. Her hand dove into the tub and came out slinging.
They spent the next hour covering each other in anything they could get their hands on.
Breathing heavily, she sat down on the sticky floor and yelled "Truce!" Her hair color was no longer distinguishable and her arms stuck to her sides.
"Stop!" she panted as grabbed a carton of orange juice. "I said truce!"
He pouted and put back the orange juice. His hair was dripping with what looked to be maple syrup and several other undeterminable liquids. His once black shirt was now an odd shade of gray.
He sat down beside her with a squish.
"You okay?" he asked gruffly. He ran one hand over his face and groaned when it stuck to his face. He pried one hand off with the other one.
"Mhm," she murmured, her eyes clothed. Not by her own design, her eyelids were just stuck together.
"That wasn't how I wanted today to turn out . . . or the morning at least. Tonight can be as wild as you please." He winked at her.
She forcibly pried her eyes open and rolled them at him. She replayed his words in her head and paused.
She raised a green eyebrow at him inquisitively. "So you had plans for this morning?" she asked.
"Yeah," he said shortly.
"Why?"
"Come on." He pulled her to her feet slowly and attempted to bring her into the living room.
She dug her heels in the slick tile flooring, which wouldn't normally do anything but since their feet were sticky, her actions had the desired effect. He stopped and looked at her.
"I wanna go take a shower first," she explained.
He sighed as if put upon. "Fine."
She ran off to take a shower leaving Morgead to wait . . . and wait.
After fifteen minutes of waiting impatiently, he decided to make sure she was still alive.
Or so was his excuse.
"Morgead!" Was heard from the bathroom. "GET OUT!"
A screech was heard followed by a series of laughs from both.
Blindfolded, Jez was led into the living room.
"Why are you doing this?" she demanded.
"Shut up," was his eloquent and persuasive reply.
He stopped her and took off the blindfold.
Her mouth dropped open.
"Merry Christmas," he whispered in her ear.
She whirled to face him. "B-but I thought you said you didn't want to celebrate "stupid, mundane holidays"?"
He smiled. "Today's special."
A Christmas tree was set up in the corner of the room. Red and green lights blinked at different intervals, many, small pictures of the two and their friends hung as ornaments, popcorn garland wrapped the tree from the very top to the very bottom, and a glittering gold star sat atop the very top of the tree.
She bent down to look at the presents under the tree and shot up suddenly with a gasp.
"They're for me!" she yelled happily, jumping into Morgead's arms.
He laughed and held her up against his chest.
"All for you. Everything," he murmured against the side of her head as he inhaled her sweet, intoxicating scent.
She pulled back and looked up at him with pleading eyes.
"Can I open them, please?" she begged.
"Sure, go ahead."
"Yay!" she squealed then stopped and looked at Morgead.
"Thank you." She kissed him softly.
"You're welcome." He kissed returned the kiss just as softly.
"Time to open my presents!"
Jez was content. Morgead had known just what she needed, as he always did.
Two hours later, they were cuddling in front of the fireplace, happy just to bask in each other's presence.
"Morgead?" she broke the silence.
"Yeah?"
"Thank you," she said as she snuggled closer to his chest.
His arms tightened around her and she sighed.
"You're welcome."
"This is the best Christmas ever. I love you."
"I love you, too."
He stiffened and she sat up.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing. I'll be right back." He got up and ran into the kitchen.
He came back a few minutes later with his hands behind his back.
"Idiot, if you're trying to hide something from me, that's not really an inconspicuous way to do it."
"Here, Jezebel." He dropped a sticky box into her lap and sat down again.
"Don't call me that!" she growled.
He smiled. "Just open the damn box, will you?"
She held the box between two fingers, trying to keep the various food items off her hands.
She finally opened the box and gasped; tears forming in her eyes.
"Will you just marry me now?" he whispered.
She looked at him and smiled.
"Yeah."