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Lena

My eyes fluttered open, the scent of bacon hitting my nose.

I rubbed my eyes and rolled over, feeling for Jo. I looked over and noticed he wasn't there, making me sit upright.

I looked over at my window and saw the light pouring in, covering my bare chest with the duvet.

I fell on my back again and raked my fingers through my hair. I felt sore, and it wasn't a sore feeling I'd felt before.

I grabbed my phone and noticed all the missed messages I had. I fell asleep shortly after Jo and I got settled comfortably, so I'd missed all the messages I'd received last night.

I rolled over and rubbed my eyes, deciding to get out of bed. How would I approach Jo?

I swung my legs over the side of the bed and the soreness was definitely present, there was no doubt about it.

I stood up and wrapped anything I could around me. I didn't feel comfortable walking around stark naked, even on my own.

I walked over to my closet and grabbed my robe, slipping into an underwear set before putting on my warm, fuzzy robe.

I opened my door gently and peeked out, biting down on my bottom lip when I saw Jo standing in the kitchen, attempting to cook something.

I rushed into my bathroom and brushed my teeth, spritzing on some perfume to make sure I smelled fresh for him.

I brushed through my hair with my fingers and looked in the mirror. Did I look as bad as I usually looked in the morning time?

I cleared my throat and untied my robe a bit, letting it show some collarbone and décolletage area. I turned off my bathroom light and opened my door, inhaling.

My eyes landed on Jo's extremely muscular back, his muscles leading down to his adorable back dimples that he hated. I bit down on my lip, my eyes trailing down to his hips and the grey joggers sitting on them perfectly.

I cautiously walked towards the kitchen, but froze when he turned around.

My eyes went wide and his eyes met mine. He pulled his oven mitt off, throwing it on the counter.

"Good morning," he meekly greeted, his eyes never straying away from mine.

"H-hi," I said, and he broke the piercing eye contact after a few minutes.

"I, uh," he said, rubbing the back of his neck, "it's cinnamon rolls, we didn't really have anything else."

I nodded, biting down on my lip. "It s-smells good."

He pulled out a barstool for me. I just smiled and walked over to the table, climbing up into the stool. He pushed me up to the table and I couldn't help but to smile, tucking a chunk of hair behind my ear.

He placed the plate of cinnamon rolls on the table, clearing his throat as he sat on his stool with no struggle.

"I tried bacon, it didn't work," he meekly admitted, looking at me from under his eyelashes.

I smiled and grabbed a cinnamon roll.

"The, uh, the cream," he began, his eyebrows going into a deep furrow.

"Icing," I corrected.

He just looked at me and the corner of his mouth quirked up.

"They're much better with icing," I said, grabbing the cup of icing and digging a little bit out with a knife. I smeared it on the top and handed it to him, making him grab it. He held it up to my mouth and I leaned forward, taking a bite out of it.

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