Imogen stretched letting her fingers brush against the curtains drawn around Benito’s bed before trailing them across his stomach in search of his hand. She didn’t need to open her eyes to know the exact angle his head was tipped toward hers or the way his lips were slightly parted in his sleep. She certainly didn’t need to open her eyes to find his hand and Imogen’s fingers easily laced with his as she settled closer against his side. Imogen normally liked mornings, and she usually liked going to class, but she was so warm and comfortable that it was difficult to think of any reason good enough to leave this spot. Her thumb traced lazy circles over Benito’s and she realized that she would not be falling back into her blissful sleep once more. She nudged her nose against his shoulder and groaned as she stretched once more. “I don’t want to go to class.” She complained, her voice low and thick from sleep. 

Her ears strained, listening for the telltale sounds of the other Hufflepuff boys getting ready for the day, but she didn’t hear a thing besides their even breaths and the occasional soft snore. It seemed she’d woken up earlier than normal. Imogen didn’t sleep in Benito’s bed every night, but it was often enough that she could tell the time based on the other boys’ patterns. Finally, slowly, she managed to pry her eyes open to peek at Benito. She wasn’t surprised to see he was already awake. He was always awake first. Should she so much as sniff, he was wide-eyed and ready to go. Imogen preferred to wake up much more slowly. “Morning.” She greeted pressing a kiss under his jaw before lifting their entwined hands to cover her yawn.