Paint You Wings // Ashton Irwin [au]

Forty

Emilia's POV

Thanksgiving has to be one of my favorite holidays. I remember when my parents would wake up early to start preparing everything and begin cooking the food for dinner while I slept in. Not to mention all the great food that they would make for me. I swear my mom's stuffing was the best and my dad could've won an award with his heavenly tasting mashed potatoes. Good times.

Now that they're gone, I don't get to sleep in anymore. I mean I could, but since I'm actually having a Thanksgiving dinner with all my friends this year and not just Julia, I have to start preparing things early since there are more mouths to feed. And since Ash and I are baking the desserts, we have to start first since it takes the longest and the alarm going off from his phone isn't letting me forget that.

I turn my body onto its side away from the loud sound and curl myself into the blanket. "Ash, shut it off," I mumble.

He groans next to me and shuffles around, turning the alarm off quickly. He moves back over to me and wraps his arm over my waist from under the blanket and nuzzles his head into my neck. "Do we have to get up?" he asks groggily.

"Unfortunately," I say, burying my face deeper into the blanket. "What time is it?"

"Five I think."

I regret telling him to set the alarm to such a terrible hour. It sounded like a good idea last night. We'd be up before everyone else and get started on baking faster so that when everyone finally does wake up, we could just go take a nap after all our hard work. Now it just sounds stupid and I just want to go back to bed. I turn my body back around and snuggle up to Ashton's warm, bare chest, not even attempting to open my eyes anytime soon.

"You know," Ashton starts, "we could just say 'screw everyone' and stay here in bed. I'm quite comfortable here."

"But desserts..." I whine.

He chuckles huskily and wraps me tighter in his arms. "Fine, but I don't want to hear any complaining from here on until the end of the day because it was your idea to wake up this early."

"Yeah, yeah," I say, pushing myself out of his arms and sitting up straight.

I rub my eyes with my fists before stretching out my arms and letting out a long yawn. When I hear the sound of a camera shutter, I turn and face Ashton who is holding up his phone which is aimed straight at me.

"Did you just-"

"Yup." He grins, turning the phone around and showing me the photo.

"My hair looks like the aftermath of the tornado that hit Dorothy's house in the Wizard of Oz," I say, looking at myself in the picture. "I look absolutely terrible."

"I think you look beautiful," he says, staring at the image in his hand with a smile spreading across his face.

"Isn't that what all boyfriends tell their girlfriends when they hate a picture of themselves?"

"Only if they don't want to get in trouble," he jokes, grinning from ear to ear. "I'm kidding."

"Ha ha."

"But seriously, regardless of if you look like a tornado took a stroll through your hair or that you look completely exhausted, you're still beautiful. And if you can't see that, then I guess I need to buy you a better mirror."

I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and bow my head sheepishly, feeling flushed and full of happiness. "It's too early to be cheesy, Ash," I tease and he laughs. "But thank you."