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The room was dimly lit by the light trying to peek through the blackout curtains, giving the bedroom a melancholy feeling. Most winter mornings had that affect, as the sun is seemingly always covered by thick clouds, snow endlessly falling to the ground- covering everything in white.
And like many winter mornings, the world outside the warmth and safety of you's shared nest was cold. Behind them, a large weight was pressed against their back- thick arms holding you's waist in a secure grip. Donnie's chin rested against the top of their head, his breathing slow and relaxed. He was still asleep, it seemed. Usually, the softshell was the first to wake up in the morning and be hopping into some sort of productive activity. So the fact that he was still in bed was a rare occurrence. Maybe you woke up earlier than they thought?
The moment they moved to try and get up, Donnie's grip tightened. He pulled them back against his chest with a low rumble of protest, moving his head to nuzzle his snout against their hair. "Stay." He grumbled lowly. It wasn't a request.
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