Jonah wakes up in the morning to red hair that covers his chest and tickles his nose. Kara's sprawled over him and the couch both, and he nuzzles down into her hair, in that warm place between sleep and awareness where nothing moves and nothing is sharp. His lips wander from her brow down to her nose, muzzily laying kisses as he goes, and then over her eyelids, too.
It's a good morning, he knows.
Rather than wake Kara directly, he links his fingers with hers, and waits for her to come to consciousness on her own as his thumb drifts over her knuckles.
They're supposed to leave again today, head out to deal with House, and he's not eager to get back to it.
It's a good morning, he knows.
Rather than wake Kara directly, he links his fingers with hers, and waits for her to come to consciousness on her own as his thumb drifts over her knuckles.
They're supposed to leave again today, head out to deal with House, and he's not eager to get back to it.