Brief summary of this morn at 5 o’ clock:

Baby get a move on!
He says
I say
Come on love, it’s gonna be alright.
He says
I said no.
I say
Fräulein, for fuck’s sake, MOVE!
He looses it

I say
Is it an invite?
He says

Beady eyes shine from a crevice in the pillows and blanket.

I’m not a morning person, and I HATE running, Ti!
I say

He’s smiling…evilly.
Oh no…
The next moment my soft heaven is raided and I’m upside down on his shoulder.
He whistles.

I roar
You were right ma chérie, you put on weight back home.
He says
I’m still not running!
I say
Oh, that’s NOT up for debate, zierlich! Now for some breakfast…
He says

Morale della favola: controllate sempre di non aver davanti un’ossessionato della forma fisica/palestra/etc davanti prima di diventare innamorate cotte.
Sanno essere estremamente persistenti! @o@