[ Stirring is the hard part. Aerith only hums, sleepily, the onset of a headache making it's way into her skull, burrowing deep and deeper yet. It's impossibly comfortable, surrounded by the suffocating smell of life itself. She inhales, exhales, lashes fluttering.
Then, defiantly, she rolls over, and curls up a little more, back to him. "Peace-wrecker"? Sounds like something her mother would call her with a smile on her face... ]
Just... five more minutes. I'll get up and come help with breakfast...
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Then, defiantly, she rolls over, and curls up a little more, back to him. "Peace-wrecker"? Sounds like something her mother would call her with a smile on her face... ]
Just... five more minutes. I'll get up and come help with breakfast...