Notting Hill in Manhattan [t. c]

part seven

  The morning sang a soft song that made them wake up. For a moment, Lise thought she was still asleep, for having this guy by her side seemed like the wildest dream. And even in reality, it was that...a dream.

  Tim thought just the same. Last night had been marvellous. He's never felt the way she had made him feel, in every way possible that you may imagine. He smiled at her and kissed her forehead. Lise frowned and that made Tim frown. She moved and sat against the headboard while Tim sat by the feet of the bed, his back against the metal of said part.

"What?" He asked.

"Nothing. I'm just thinking." She smiled and he smiled back at her.

"About what?"

"About how crazy it is that I got to see you naked." He chuckled.

"I was thinking about saying that." She arched an eyebrow. "It was surreal."

"You have a thing for talking nicely."

"It's the French part of me. We're hopeless romantics."

"Yeah, you and half of the world's population." He nodded. And they stayed silent for a moment.

"Can I ask you something?" She nodded. "Okay. So, there are a lot of people that would like to...you know, do this, with me, and with famous people in general." She nodded in agreement. "And there's something Rita Hayworth used to say: 'they go to bed with Gilda, they wake up with me'. Men went to bed with the dream and they didn't like waking up with reality." Lise frowned again. "Would you say that? You went to bed with...I don't know, Laurie and woke up with me? Was it like...good waking up with reality? Or?" She moved forward and kissed his lips.

"I wasn't thinking about that."  She told him once the kiss has broken. "And if I was, I'd gladly wake up with reality. Because I didn't meet Laurie at the bookshop, I met a sarcastic Tim who told a girl that stealing is not cool." He chuckled and kissed her again. He moved slowly, but moved at the point of making her lay down against the pillow again. "You know?" She started speaking in between kisses. "I was...right."

"About what?"

"About what they...say about guys...with big feet." He busted into laughter and made her laugh too. There it was, the dirty joke that finally went right.

"Such a mood killer."

"Oh, come on." She laughed. "That should be a turn-on." He laughed again against her collarbone.

"I'll be right back." He stood up. "You stay there and if I make a mess, I'll clean it later." She frowned. "Don't ask." He put on his underwear and the trousers of the pyjama on while Lise stayed in bed, covering her freckled body with the white bedsheets. About ten minutes in, the scent of pancakes filled Annalise's nose. She smiled. Later on, and by this I mean fifteen minutes, Tim walked in with a trade where two plates with the pancakes and some berries he had found in the fridge, and two mugs with coffee in them. "Breakfast in bed." He said with a bright smile as Lise sat up and reclined her back on the board again, while he sat and placed the trade on the nightstand. "Or brunch, lunch, or something." And that's the truth, they had no clue what time it was, nor they cared. Lise should though, she didn't go to work yesterday, but she was in a happy place right now. And he was too, he didn't care about it, as long as he stayed there.

"Well look at that. He's a chef too." He chuckled and looked at her as she took a sip of one of the mugs.

"Can I stay a little longer?"

"Stay forever." He smiled and looked at the trade.

"I forgot the honey." He stood up after he took a strawberry and ate it. The bell ranged and Lise stood up, she put her underwear on too and proceeded to throw over herself the flannel dress she was wearing.