You woke up, not very surprised to find yourself in the same position as always. You were laying on your stomach, arms folded under your cheek, with the heavy weight of your boyfriend’s head on your lower back. His soft, white hair tickled the bare skin where your shirt that you had stolen from him had ridden up a bit, and one of his hands was slid under that shirt to embrace your stomach. The other held your hip and when he woke up a few moments after you he rubbed soft circles into the flesh of your back, pressing a gentle kiss to the bare skin.

“Guten Morgen, Liebling,” he murmured into your back before shifting so that was laying next to you, arms still firmly around you.

Lightly, you pecked his lips. “Morning,” you chirped. Today was one of the few days you both had off, and you planned on spending the majority of it watching movies in bed. Letting your mind wander, you remembered something. “Oh,” you said, “Remind me to go to the store to pick up cereal today, we’re almost out.”

You’re boyfriend seemed uninterested. “Sure, why?”

Rolling so your back was pressed into his chest, you nuzzled a bit closer. “We only have enough left for one bowl, so we need more.”

Gilbert stiffened a bit. “One bowl?”

“Yes,” you trailed off, before catching on. Craning your neck around, his ruby eyes were frantic, much like your own. Holding his gaze in an unspoken staring contest, the two of you broke apart at the same time, each scrambling off of your own respective sides of the bed.

You had the advantage, you slept closer to the door. Jumping from the bed, Gil got tangled in the covers and crashed to the floor, but you could’ve cared less at the moment, instead darting to the door.

Noticing this, the albino German leapt from the floor, scrabbling over the mattress and chasing you out to the hall that led to the kitchen. You reached the pantry just as Gilbert was skidding in, sock clad feet unable to gain any traction on the tiled floors.

“No!” you squealed, latching onto the door as your boyfriend tried to pull you away.

“Come on, (F/n)!” Gilbert groaned, “Let go!”

Keeping all of your weight in your feet so the German man couldn’t pull you away too easily, you squeezed your one hand under his, attempting to pry them away from you while the other hand held you steady.

The doorbell rang. “You should get that,” you muttered, focused on your escape.

He continued to pull. “Nein, it’s probably just the mail.”

The bell rang again and you smirked. “Just the mail, huh?”

Just as Gilbert was about to respond, you heard the buzz of his phone on the counter. He had gotten a text. “It’s for you,” you sang, “Go get the door!”

Groaning, he let go of you, sending you stumbling backwards, and stomped off to the door.

“If it’s one of those damn Jehovah’s Witnesses-” he cut off his ramblings as you heard him open the door.

Two, sweet enough voices sang out his name, their two accents mixing into a sound that you could only distinguish as your boyfriend’s two best friends. And he greeted them accordingly.

“You dickwads. I’m not getting the last of the cereal because of you.”

You had completely forgotten about the cereal, and rushed to dump the contents of the box into a bowl, along with milk. Grinning like a fool, you skipped out to where the guys were still standing at the door, talking. The bowl of cereal sloshed a bit in your hand.

“Good morning!” you chirped cheerily, taking a bite of cereal, “I hope you don’t take too long with Gilly-dear-” He made a face at the new name. “- he wanted cereal for breakfast today, but there’s none here so he has to buy more.”

Leaving it on that, you walked back into your kitchen to eat at the counter and still be able to hear the infamous Bad Touch Trio’s conversation.

Gilbert was mumbling complaints about you, all of which you could hear, so you smirked and shouted a response. “It’s a good thing you’re pretty, now go get me more cereal.”

The door slammed and you heard the car start up outside. You looked out the window and saw all three of the boys in your car. Gilbert looked up, seeing you. A cat-like smile on your face, you formed a heart with your hands mouthing the words ‘I love you’ to your boyfriend.

Rolling his crimson eyes, he, much less dramatically, echoed the words to you.

Your phone buzzed on the counter. ‘I worry about the maturity shown in your relationship.’

Looking up through the window, you just caught sight of Francis sighing and rubbing his temples before the car pulled out of the driveway, off to get you your cereal.