A new day.

The night is a long one, your mind constantly weighed by a mixture of anxiety and curiosity, drawn to the thought of Sarah.

You wonder if it would’ve been better to watch the movie with her, or perhaps not subject her to it at all, at least for now.

But then, like ripping off a bandaid, perhaps it’s best to just get it over with, and to let her process the inevitable identity crisis overnight.

It’s in the early hours of the morning when you finally settle into bed, Arwen beside you, separated by a few feet on the colossal mattress. Sleeping properly in a bed, and not having REM sleep induced on her pedestal, being a treat you decided to afford her tonight.

***

In the morning, you awake to the smell of coffee and bacon wafting down the steps and into the bedroom.

Shifting, you blink away some sleep in your eyelashes and sit up with stretch, looking to the alarm clock sat on your nightstand.

The clock, It’s numbers a warm orange glow emanating from four nixie tubes, reads “9:30”

Your heart skips a beat, and instinctively you swing your legs out of bed, fearing being late. You’re halfway across the room when some tidbit of pertinent information struggles to surface in your groggy mind.

Wait a minute…

It’s Christmas break, right.

You breath a sigh of relief, a warm feeling of contentedness spreading through your body.

Sitting back on the bed, you’re suddenly made aware of your sometimes inconveniently large cock, and that it’s currently throbbing with morning wood.

looking over your shoulder, you look for an opportunity to relieve your morning frustrations, but find the spot Arwen was sleeping in is now empty.

Briefly you consider attempting to fall back asleep, but in the end you decide demolishing any semblance of a sleeping schedule probably isn’t worth it, and so you rise once more, shuffling to the bathroom.

In short time you manage to shower and get dressed, throwing on a simple crewneck and some track pants.

As you enter your main room, you see through the tall glass windows lining the opposite wall. Outside, the world has been enveloped in a flurry of thick snowflakes, covering the ground in a thin layer of the fresh white powder.

Making your way upstairs, you follow your nose and ears to the kitchen, and eventually peer inside to find your mother and sister sitting at the small round breakfast table in the corner.

Walking into the arched doorway, you nearly run into Arwen as she rounds a blind corner, making to exit the kitchen.

She gasps in suprise, “Oh!!, I’m Sorry Master. I- i was just coming to wake you.”

You see she’s wearing the same crotchless leotard as last night, along with a tied black robe, barely long enough to cover her privates.

A last minute yawn escapes you, and after stifling it with a closed fist you respond “- no worries, i needed the sleep.”

You greet your family with various waves and “good-mornings”, and walk to the table, pulling out a seat.

Your bottom has barely touched the wooden seat before a steaming mug of coffee along with a bacon sandwich, your favourite, is placed in front of you by Arwen.

“Any plans for today sweetheart?” Your mother asks with genuine interest, before daintily taking a bite of her scrambled eggs.

“Hmm…” you have to think for a moment, your plans for the break having been pretty vaguely planned. “Well I suppose i should do some last minute shopping, probably bring along the girls.”

Out of the corner of your eye you see Arwen, who has opted to begin washing the dishes, visibly perk up at the prospect of leaving the house.

“Oh-“ you remember something, or rather someone important “- i also need to deal with Sarah today.”

Your mother smiles and nods, this now clearly being the reason for her asking. “Why not invite her for breakfast? Maybe introduce us? You have to start somewhere.”

You think for a moment before replying, “she’s probably had a pretty intense night, i think it’s best we take it a little slower today.”

Glancing around, you note a small pile of leftover scrambled eggs, along with a single strip of bacon sitting on a large plate centre on the table.

You motion towards them, silently asking if either your mother or sister want them.

Your sister makes a pained groaning sound, rubbing her stomach. “Nah I’m done, I’ve eaten too much already.”

Your mother simply shakes her head no, and so stuffing the last bite of your sandwich into your mouth, you take the leftovers and slide them onto your relatively clean plate.

You elaborate, “for Sarah.”