His hood is pulled up over his unruly curls. His eyes are swollen from sleep, the bags underneath them proof to the lack of it heâs getting. His sweats are tucked into his black Nike socks. Heâs got his phone in front of his face, scrolling through twitter, keys hanging off his pinky finger, shoulder leaned up against the wall.
âShawn just go back to bed,â You sigh as you sit on the couch to tie up your converse.
He looks up from his phone, eyebrows furrowed, grumpy pout on his face, scoff rolling past his lips.
âIâm driving my girlfriend to work, stop fighting me on it.â He mutters, looking back to his phone.
You bite back a smile, shaking your head as you say, âI forget how grumpy you can be in the morning.â
âMânot grumpy,â He pockets his phone, crossing his arms over his chest.
You look up with a raised eyebrow, teasing smirk running across your lips as you giggle lightly.
âMânot grumpy,â He whines, âMâtired.âÂ
âThen go back to bed,â You stand, brushing off your jean covered thighs.
âIâm driving you to work!âÂ
âShawn,â You reach for your purse, âI can drive myself.â
âNo!â He snags your keys, pocketing those as well before opening the door for you.Â
âYouâre so damn stubborn,â You mumble walking past him, into the biting cold of the early morning.Â
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