Fragment #81 - Sunday breakfast in bed

I close the door as silently as I can. Steve is hopefully still sleeping. I go to the kitchen and open the blinds. The sun is slowly rises on the slopes of Kelvingrove Park, staining of gold and pink the stones of the buildings. I get the coffee going and set the little tray: two glasses of orange juice, four toasts on a plate, butter, plump jam from my grandma, croissants from the only good baker in Byres Road, and of course Steve's cup of coffee and my cup of tea. By the time all is ready, I can hear Steve moving in the bed.
I take the tray in the bedroom, set it on my bedside table, and sit on the bed. I lean to kiss Steve on the forehead to wake him completely. He groans, turns around and grabs my waist with his arm. He pulls me towards him, lies on his side and stops moving. I'm stuck right against his chest, my face in his neck, his arm on my side.
"Come on, Steve, wake up."
"Mmm, no."
"Yes!"
I start twitching and rolling to get out of his embrace. Once I'm out, I kneel next to him and delicately set my hands on his side, and wait there a couple of seconds. Then, I tickle just once, but at the right place so that he jumps out the covers.
"You evil!!!"
We laugh and go back under the blankets. I set the tray on our knees, and smile.
"See, it was worth waking up, wasn't it?"
He smiles at me and kisses me on the lips and then moves towards my ear. When he's right under it, he whispers "You are worth not sleeping at all. I love you."