Apologies and Breakfast (Grant's POV)

I woke up to my arms tightly wrapped around something wonderfully soft and curvy, and my face snuggled cozily on silky smooth skin. I was so comfortable that I almost fell back asleep, before I felt lips on my chest. I froze at the unexpected sensation. Amaryllis was kissing my chest. I pulled my head back from what I now realized was her neck. Had I been nuzzling her in my sleep?

"Noo..." Amaryllis started to nuzzle up against me in protest, "Don't stop."

She is obviously still half-asleep. "Amaryllis, it's time to wake up," I shake her shoulder gently, "Time to make breakfast and face the day."

"Five more minutes," she moans.

I glance at the alarm clock, before realizing that it is still the weekend, and I have no real plans. "OK, you can stay here for five more minutes. I'll go get breakfast ready," I start gently trying to extricate myself before she grabs on to me with a vise grip.

"I want to keep snuggling for five more minutes, not just lay in bed alone."

"...OK," I lie back down and wrap my arms around her, pulling her tightly into me, "I'm sorry for nuzzling you without your permission." I heard her sigh with what sounded like exasperation, and then felt her snuggle more tightly against me.

"You never need to apologize for snuggling, cuddling, nuzzling, or otherwise touching me in an affectionate manner," Amaryllis said authoritatively, "I will always welcome it."

"Wait hold on," I said, "What does 'touching you in an affectionate manner' mean? I'm assuming it covers a friendly handshake or pat on the head, but how far does that extend?"

"As far as you want it to," she preempted my next question by taking one of my hands off of her back, and moving it down her body to rest on her ass. The upper part of my hand felt the suggestion of a curve through the fabric of my T-shirt, and the lower half of my hand brushed against silky smooth skin, before my entire hand leapt away like it had touched a live wire.

"...Good to know."

I returned my hand to her back and we styed cuddling for a while. I felt guilty about noticing how nice she smelled. She didn't smell like soap or shampoo, but of...her. A sort of woody, herbal scent, something that reminded me of a cross between the smell of a cedar tree and or a rosemary plant. It somehow reminded me of my parents' house, the smell of the spice drawer where my mom had spilled some rosemary, and the scent never came out, and the smell of the row of cedars that my dad had planted in the backyard. Without realizing it, I had pulled her closer to get more of the scent. Amaryllis didn't seem to mind, taking the opportunity to burrow deeper into my chest. I think she was also smelling me.

We stayed like that until my stomach audibly gurgled, reminding both of us that breakfast was needed. Amaryllis made a shamefaced grin as she disentangled herself from me.

"I'll get breakfast going while you get dressed," I said as I rolled out of bed. She nodded, and I left for the kitchen, closing the door behind me. I decided that I was going to make my specialty, cinnamon pancakes, which are exactly what they sound like. They're pancakes, made with cinnamon. It had been a while since I made them for myself, so I hoped I had all of the ingredients on hand. Luckily, I had enough to make a small batch, but it used up all my cinnamon. Usually, I make a large batch and store it in the freezer to last me about half a week. Serving for two, this batch will probably only last this meal.

I had just finished putting out plates on the kitchen table, when I heard the bedroom door open. Amaryllis was wearing clothes that still had the tags on them, she had a massive case of bedhead, and she wasn't wearing makeup. She was a vision of beauty.