Your turn
It was a quiet night in Franklin, Louisiana. Quiet, until a baby's wail pierced the night. The wail was coming from a bedroom in a large flat. The room next door was also a bedroom, containing a large double bed. The bed contained two people, both of which were trying to stay asleep. Finally, Rogue gave up, and opened her eyes. She poked her husband repeatedly in the shoulder, until he too was awake.
"Chére, C'est trop premier." He grumbled. She prodded him again.
"English, Swamp Rat."
"I's too early, Chére. T'aint ev'n ligh' yet." Rogue huffed, then growled as he rolled over to try and get back to sleep.
"Remy, it's yah're turn tah check on Mattie. Yahr daughter, remembah?" He turned back to face her, and kissed her softly on the mouth.
"Bu' y'll do it fer Remy, won't y', Chére?" Rogue smirked.
"No, Ah won't. Now git." She lifted her feet up and pushed him, hard. Remy felt himself sliding out of bed, with a one-way ticket to the floor. He grabbed hold of Rogue's arm, but she fell with him. They landed, tangled together in the bed sheet, on the cold wooden floor. Remy was on his back on the floor, with Rogue on top of him, her legs between his, propped on her elbows either side of his face. He smirked, and closed the gap between their faces, kissing her. A while later, they stopped, and Remy lay back on the floor.
"Still Remy's turn?" He asked, confidently.
"Yup." His wife replied, and got back into bed. Muttering in French, the Cajun went to check on his daughter.
A bit short I know, but I hope you liked it!