Sunday Morning
Sunday Morning rain is falling,
Steal some Covers share some skin,
She's awake, and she knows that I know it. Why do we play these games with each other? A silent smirk appears on her face, she tosses to her side taking the bed covers with her. This is our little morning war, I try to get some of the covers back, but she won't let me.
This is our game you see, we fight for the bed covers and the one with the most gets to have an extra lie-in. The other ... has to feed the kids. I know that it is already my turn to feed them, but I still like to tease her, to spend one more minute with her before I step out into the cold, where the monsters lie. I can already hear them downstairs, they're growling for attention, making a mess everywhere, they're fighting for survival.
I look outside the window, another grey, dull, rainy morning in England. Just like every Sunday Morning, it's just the way that I like it.
Clouds are shrouding us in moments unforgettable
You twist to fit the mould that I am in
I turn to her, I rest my head on her shoulder, my arms wrap themselves around her, enveloping her into warmth. She moans quietly, as I plant soft kisses on her velvet skin.
I hear my signal to go, the noises downstairs have stopped. I whisper in her ear, a goodbye, and with that she wakes up.
She tosses back on to her side to see my face, her brown eyes glistening with happiness or some other substance which is similar. "Now? Can't you wait one more minute?" she asks. A smile spreads across my face, one to match hers. We lay there in each other's company, we do nothing but snuggle and kiss in the warmth of our hide-out.
But things just get so crazy living life gets hard to do
And I would gladly hit the road get up and go if I knew
That someday it would lead me back to you
That someday it would lead me back to you
I don't know what I would do without her, she's my everything, she's given me so much; hope, happiness, a family and love. At times, things did get difficult between us, we both would give up on each other. We were both young and stubborn.
Now things have changed, we know that we have to be together. When we're separate, there's no point in living. She's like oxygen to me, I always need it, she's the thing that keeps me breathing.
That may be all I need
In darkness she is all I see
Come and rest your bones with me
Driving slow on Sunday morning
And I never want to leave
We're perfect for each other, to others we seem like an unlikely couple, but we believe it's true. We don't have many things in common, there's more differences between us, but there is an old saying which goes that opposites attract.
I like to think of us as a jigsaw, two lost pieces which fit together perfectly to make a whole. I know that she's the one, I knew it from the first moment I touched her, brushing my own lips with her soft, luscious ones. They fused together, igniting a spark which couldn't be broken apart, it was magical.
Fingers trace your every outline
Paint a picture with my hands
I know everything there is to know about you. I know the places that you like to be touched, I know the way that you like to be touched.
Sometimes I sit and reminisce, about previous nights. I know that we can never get bored of each other. I will always remember your perfect figure, my fingers trace every detail of it, it's a thrust for more knowledge about you. By now I know it too well, I know where the curves are, I could paint a colourful picture of it, and then frame it for the whole world to see.
Back and forth we sway like branches in a storm
Change the weather still together when it ends
I can remember the first night, our first passionate encounter. The lust was too strong, we desired each other too much to let it get in the way of the war.
I remember it being so physical, we writhed in naked sweat, our bodies joined in a powerful connection. Fire burnt between us, the feeling was addictive. We both wanted more, we kept each other satisfied nearly every night. It was the best part of evening, and a start of a relationship.
That may be all I need
In darkness she is all I see
Come and rest your bones with me
Driving slow on Sunday morning
And I never want to leave
It's time for me to go now, to keep our monsters entertained. I get up and leave her, I'm already feeling pain. The children are downstairs, covered in flour, bless them, they're trying to make pancakes for her.
She's the best mother that I know, she's an angel in disguise. She swooped me with her wings and flew me to some paradise.
But things just get so crazy living life gets hard to do
Sunday morning rain is falling and I'm calling out to you
Singing someday It'll bring me back to you
Find a way to bring myself back home to you
I look at one of the children, she looks like us both. Her hair in brunette ringlets travelling to her shoulders. Her piercing blue eyes make the ocean come alive. Her smile is just like mine, she has inherited the world famous smirk. She's small, but beautiful just like her.
I look at the sons that I never knew I would have. The eldest is an identical form of myself at his age. The other looks like her, he has brown, shabby, uncontrolled hair which is short and appealing to a lot of girls. He has dark brown eyes, with a hint of green around the edges. They can both woo any girl they can choose, just like their father.
That may be all I need
In darkness she is all I see
Come and rest your bones with me
Driving slow on Sunday morning
And I never want to leave
I can hear your footsteps from the stairs. We surprise you with your breakfast, it's your favourite, pancakes with maple syrup. You kiss and hug every one of our children, and lastly you turn to me.
"Thank you," you softly say, and you lightly kiss me on the lips.
"For what?" I whisper.
"For giving me these beautiful kids," you flash that beautiful smile of yours. I can see you staring into my eyes, the ice blue that has changed colour since I met you.
"I love you, Hermione," my hot breath whispers in her ear.
"I love you too, Draco," she softly says back.
The children disturb us from our thoughts, "Happy Mother's Day, Mummy," the girl gently tugs on her mother's robe. Hermione picks her up and plants kisses on her cheek.
It's the perfect family life on a normal Sunday morning.