The Morning Shift

The bedroom was filled with the soft morning light that filtered through the curtains, casting lazy patterns across the bed where Sam and Emma lay entwined. Sam had been the first to wake, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips as the idea they'd discussed before bed came back to him. He nudged Emma gently, their bodies still warm from sleep, and whispered, "Shall we?" A playful nod was all he needed.

They began with their chosen roles, a game they hadn't yet tried. Sam was to be the patient, seeking comfort, while Emma played the attentive nurse. Sam had slipped into a pair of loose pajama pants while Emma donned a borrowed white shirt, loosely buttoned, suggesting the professional attire of their imagined role. As Sam lay back, Emma leaned over him, soft fabric brushing against his chest, and whispered in a tone laced with mock seriousness, "Let's check your vitals."