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To most people, the way Rose lived her life was always a bit of a contradiction. From her interests (occupied by both fantastic creatures born of dubiously sane minds, and cats) to her approach to writing (children's stories with diction that could have made James Joyce's vision dizzy), there was always, as her loving self-appointed snugglechum/smoochpartner/cuddlecomrade liked to point out, "a really weird and/or silly yang to whatever uberserious yin you project!"
As such, to anyone familiar to the state she kept her room and belongings in (what was the point of making her bed? It wasn't like anyone saw it) it was usually a surprise when she revealed her diligence in keeping up a consistent schedule. Up at 8 AM, cleaned clothed and fed by 8:30, writing from 9 to noon, etc. She never saw what the big deal was--neat rooms were a niceity, but Gettings Things Done was an absolute. And if schedules did any thing, they helped her get things done, and kept her from getting lazy.
Which was a problem when it came to dating John Egbert.
"John," she sighed, patting one of the thick arms around her waist for the fifth time in five minutes. "John, I know you're awake."
The other half of the lumpy heap of quilts twitched. "Mmmnnn."
"In case you haven't noticed, John, our good friend The Sun is beginning to slip his steepled fingers into the house. I should have been out of bed hours ago."
She felt his head drop to nuzzle against her neck. "No he's not. It's cloudy." He shifted to be flush against her back. "It's cloudy, and cold, and it's a Saturday. These kinds of days are for staying in bed. Our good friend The Sun can go punch himself in his good friend His Dick."
"..." Rose blinked. "I think our metapor may have derailed somewhere along the line."
John snorted. "Whatever."
"In any case," and by a stroke of luck she was able to wriggle free of his grasp, "sunny or not, I still have things to do. You can stay in bed if you wish, but-"
"Nope." And with a shift of springs and sheets she's suddenly wrapped in his arms even tighter than before. "Bed warm. Bed good."
Rose barely fought off the urge to groan. "John."
"Rose." He laughed. "Come on Rose, it's not fun staying in bed all day if there isn't someone with you! Haven't you ever wanted to spend..." He rubbed his cheek against the back of her hair. "...an entire day..." He kissed the back of her neck, once, twice. "...just being lazy and cuddling someone?"
To her horror, part of her brain was sleepily mumbling that, yes, that did sound nice. The combined softness and warmth of their nest of comforters and John's own comfort (and warmth, and softness) was starting to drape a fuzzy peacefulness over Rose's mind. Still, she made a final vain attempt at escape. "Being lazy doesn't fit into my schedule for today, I'm afraid."
"Man, bring a notebook into bed or something then. I don't care whatever you do, I just want to be close to you." There was a pause between them. "O...Oh. Ehe..." He made a noise somewhere between a cough and a laugh. "Hah, that was...kind of corny." For once his surprising bursts of sincerity seemed to have caught him off guard as much as her. "But, uh. Yeah. If you really want to stick to your schedule then whatever, but, honestly Rose? You of all people deserve to chill out a bit sometimes. You work really hard and it's super cool that you can set yourself to something and just totally focus and get it done! But sometimes you can get kind of really super into it, at the expense of stuff like eating and sleeping, and last time I checked those are kind of improtant? And, you know, you can just kick back at times like this, especially on a weekend!"
Rose was silent a moment. "...I suppose the world won't spin itself into a fiery death if I indulge in a little cuddling."
"That's the spirit!" They both chuckled a little, and Rose scooted a bit closer to John, turning slightly to drape one arm around his waist. With a few seconds of shuffling, they find a position that melds them together perfectly. Drowsiness crept in soon after, and other than the soft beating of their hearts, there was nothing but silence.
....broken seconds later by a loud, deep growl originating somewhere midst the sheets around the area of John's midsection.
Rose kept her eyes closed for a moment, just to give him a chance to compose himself. When she looked his eyes were still shut, but his mouth was set flat and his face was red.
"...you...heard that didn't you."
Truth be told she felt it more than anything. Rose smirked a little. "You know, my schedule does have room for breakfast."
John sighed, and cracked open one eye with a sheepish smile. "Lucky us."