#worlf of dance

[hughiecampbelle]

A Good Morning (Scott Lang Drabble)

Character/s: Scott, Cassie mention

Word Count: 525

Requested: @melody-of-scream

Word Prompt/s: lace, trace

Tag List: @dontdowhatisayandnobodygetshurt @hypsiacrobasiphobia @way-obsessed-5

A/N: Andrea I'm sorry if this isn't that great!!!! I hope you like it anyways!!! Feedback is always appreciated 💜

He traced his fingers over your shoulder, down your side, drawing pictures on your skin. A house, you guessed, and maybe a cat. He was always up too early. You shooed him away, pulling the blankets up, over your face, covering it from the light of day. Again, he'd draw, or write words on your arm, back, whatever was closest. His name, yours, cursive, swears, sometimes just nonsense. He never knew how to wake you up. The grumpy kind of lazy mornings you wished would last forever. He was bright and bubbly in the early hours, doing all the things that nearly killed you. He didn't need an alarm to see the world before the sun rose, a reason to get up and cook breakfast and start the day off right.

Something neither of you were expecting when you moved in was the daily morning struggles. While you silenced your alarms, all thirty of them, he was throwing the blankets back, kissing your forehead before starting his day. You couldn't imagine being that happy that early. You had to adapt to one another. Scott had to learn to be quieter, not as enthusiastic until you had a hot beverage in your hand. He'd lived on his own for a while, and, aside fro, the weekends with his daughter, could be as loud as he could be. Tripping over things, bumping pits and pans, even singing to himself along with the music while the tv was on high. When Cassie was there, being a child with all the energy in the worlf, she was up just as early as him, singing along and dancing her way through the house.

You loved the comfort of your blankets in the morning, opting for sleep over everything. Even just laying there was an act in which you indulged in. The lace and fleece of all the covers you'd found around the house, piling them up over the two of you the night before. Some days were better. Certain days you'd actually leave yourself enough time to get out the door on time with yourself dressed and ready. More often than not you ran late, grabbing a mug and keys from Scotts hands while he waited by the door.

Still you had to learn to get up for him. The morning of alone time together, giving you a chance to talk about the day ahead, your dreams and funny things you two do in your sleep. It was always a much happier beginning to your day, even though it wasn't spent nestled in the blankets.

He never quite found the best way to wake you up. Kisses and cuddles were a good start, but it only made you want to be there with him even longer. He thought alarms were too violent, and so was simply turning on the lights. Pulling off the blankets wasn't an option, and using water was downright cruel. Scott thought, the next time you had to wake up early for something, jumping on the bed would do the trick. And. . . . if it didn't, he could always make up for it with pancakes.