{^AMBIENCE INCLUDED^}

Yes, I know. There are a lot of time skips in this. I have written it this way purposely, to switch scenes without rambling. Almost like a movie. The morning is extra long, meant to capture how much it means to the main character and Gerard.

(PRESS PLAY)

The sun peeked through the window, reaching out and opening my eyes. It was morning. The familiar scent of lavender filled the room, from the oil that I had put on last night to help Gerard and I have a better night's sleep. The last remains of my peaceful dream faded away as my mind woke from its sleep. I remembered walking through a meadow with Gerard, our hands intertwined.

I looked over at him. He was cocooned in the covers, embraced in the comfort. The innocence showed on his face, and all of the worry lines on his forehead were gone. All of his muscles were at ease. Not a spasm, twitch, or jolt interrupted the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.

Time stood still as my eyes began to wander around the room. The same, dark umber walls that I saw every day seemed brand new. I didn't plan on moving an inch of my body any time soon.

I felt the bed shift slightly, and Gerard turned to face me. He was awake.

"Good morning, sweetheart," I told him with a grin.

He blinked his eyes and moved closer, burrowing his head into my neck. "Good morning." He mumbled the words against my skin, the corners of his lips curving upward in a smile.

I snaked my arms around him, without a trace of tension in my body. He moved even closer up against my chest and closed his eyes. He was so warm.

"I am not moving from this spot. Ever. I hope you realize that," I said to him softly with a quiet laugh.

"Good," he replied, his warm breath hitting my neck. "I'm not moving either."

It was minutes before we both slipped into oblivion again.

***

"Gerard, hey, wake up." I rubbed his back. "I'm gonna go make some breakfast. Okay?"

I was about to sit up, but he opened his eyes and pulled me back. He pulled me back so that I was laying on him, our faces inches apart. "You said you weren't moving," he said jokingly with a half-smile.

I leaned down to kiss him on the lips. His hands held the sides of my face, making me want to let him melt into me again. Our lips stayed attached for a few more seconds before I pulled away.

"Alright, alright." I laughed. "I'm gonna go. Spinach frittata sound okay?"

He nodded. "Sounds perfect. I'll be out in a minute. You treat me so well."

"I like cooking good meals. It's satisfying." I laughed and messed up his hair before getting up and walking to the kitchen.

I missed his touch immediately.

I began preparing breakfast, taking out the spinach, eggs, tomatoes, and cheese from the fridge. I decided to spice it up today and added Parmesan and garlic. As I mixed the ingredients into the eggs, I felt a pair of arms wrap around my waist.

"Did you miss me?"

I chuckled. "I did."

"You make me happy," Gerard said and let his arms fall. He let out a satisfied sigh and went over to the coffee pot. The man couldn't live without his morning pick-me-up.

"What do you have planned for today?" I asked.

He was always one to plan things far in advance. He'd have weeks of stuff planned out all in his head. I just didn't know how he did it. "Painting," he replied. "I need to get a piece done by today."

"I've got writing to do," I said as I put the mix in the oven. "I haven't been able to focus lately. It's just pretty hard. I've got all these ideas in my head, I can't function with it."

Gerard nodded. "I know the feeling. You just have this brilliant plot line, characters, and setting all put together in your mind. It's overwhelming to get it all out. Happened to me with Umbrella Academy. Doom Patrol has been the same way."

"I'm just really hoping that it works out," I said with a shrug.

He turned to me, sipping his coffee. "Hey, don't sweat it. You're a great author. You inspire a lot of people and not to mention, you make a lot of money. I'm sure you'll do well."

I smiled. "Thanks, Gerard. Anyways, I'm gonna go get dressed. There are ten minutes on the oven timer. It'll take me less time than that."

I managed to get dressed and look somewhat decent in five minutes. It was quick and easy. By the time I got back to the kitchen, I needed some coffee too.

Eventually, breakfast was out of the oven and cooled down enough to eat.

"So, how did I do?"

"It's wonderful," Gerard said with a smile. "As always."

***

I stepped into my office, letting out a deep sigh. "Okay, you got this." I was speaking to myself. There was no way that I "got this". My desk was a disaster, but I kind of liked it cluttered. It looked more casual. I gazed up at Gerard's paintings and artwork all around the room. He thought I was crazy for putting them up here. I thought it gave me good luck.

I sat in the uncomfortable spinning chair and took a deep breath, opening Microsoft 2016. It was the only platform that I could count on. I stretched my fingers, because I would most likely be typing for four to five hours.

Once Microsoft was open, I just sat there for a moment. I stared at the blank white screen, and it stared back at me. It yelled at me to do something.

The classical music isn't working, I decided and stood up. I was already distracted.

Screw that. I'm getting freakin' distracted.

I'm pretty sure I kicked the speaker and it shut up.

Much better.

Before I knew it, my fingers were typing faster than my grandma on Black Friday. The flood wall broke in my head, and all of the ideas came pouring out onto the screen. I couldn't stop my fingers from senselessly typing all of the thoughts in my head.

***

Gerard's Perspective

I slowly pulled the brush up the canvas, feeling as light as a feather. The usual, calming instrumental played in the background while I made careful brush strokes.

The rest of the world was irrelevant at this moment. All of the internal thoughts were far away; only the complete focus was left.

The lotus incense was rejuvenating. I often burned it during meditation, because it greatly increased mental clarity.

***

Perspective Switched Back

I guess I was writing for longer than I had planned to. Gerard knocked on the door, and I finally glanced at the time. It was six o'clock in the evening, meaning that I had been writing for a little over six hours.

"Sorry to interrupt you," he said with his sweet voice. "But I didn't know if you wanted dinner or anything..."

I chuckled. "I-I guess I wasn't paying attention to the time. You've already eaten, right?"

He bit his lip.

"Gerard!"

"I'm just waiting for you!" He threw his hands up in defense, holding back laughter.

I rolled my eyes playfully. "Only you would wait. Let's go eat."

"You sure?" He asked. "I know you don't like to be pulled away from things. I can wait if-"

"You're not waiting," I said and got up from the chair, taking his arm and pulling him to the kitchen.

***

I still couldn't believe that I wrote for a straight six hours. It had to have been a record or something.

"So how hungry were you earlier?" I asked him as I rolled over to face him in bed.

He laughed again. "It doesn't matter. Go to sleep."

"But what if I am just waiting for you?" I asked.

"Then you stop waiting," Gerard said and wrapped his arms around me. "Because I'm right here."