The bright daylight shines in through the window, prying open Mopsa’s weary eyes. She stretches forward, sharply exhaling as her back pops. She leans back on her hands, smiling as her eyes catch the woman beside her.
“Good morning, Pamela,” she whispers, brushing her lover’s tangle of curls aside to press a soft kiss to her cheek. The response, of course, is a tired groan. “Angel, we have to get out of bed.”
“Mopsa, it’s so early.”
“It’s noon, Pamela.”
At this, Pamela falls silent. Just as Mopsa reaches to try to wake her again, she rolls onto her back, looking lazily up at Mopsa. Her hair is wild, her eyes squinted, her face scrunched up in displeasure. It’s kind of not right for her to be this beautiful.
Pamela pushes some of Mopsa’s hair out of her face, letting her hand linger gently against her cheek. “Dearest Mopsa, I do not say this lightly, but you are an absolutely divine beauty.” She runs her fingertips down Mopsa’s arm, bringing her hand to her lips.
Mopsa laughs, bright and loud like the sun outside, before leaning down and touching her nose to Pamela’s.
“I believe someone has mentioned that to me before, now that I think about it.”