Morning woke me through Nina's leg resting carefully across both of mine. Her white shirt had twisted near the waist, exposing a narrow line of skin without creating permission while she slept; I stayed still until she opened her eyes herself.
"Pain?" Nina asked, voice rough from sleep while she remembered where our bodies met.
"Two," I replied, checking the scar before inviting movement, "how do you feel?"
"Warm, thirsty, plus frustrated in a good way," she said, lifting her leg only after deciding whether to remain close.
We drank water before kissing, protecting morning bodies from the assumption that desire should outrank everything else. Nina asked whether I wanted affection now; I said yes, then kissed her slowly while last night's stopping point remained intact.
Her hand rested above my shirt without moving below the waistband; mine stayed at her waist while she chose the duration. The kiss ended after several minutes through mutual tired laughter rather than escalation.
