We have to get moving

The soft morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a golden glow over the room.

I stretched under the warm sheets, my body still pleasantly sore from the night before. The air was cool, the scent of salt lingering, mixing with the faintest trace of Carmen's cologne. 

I turned my head to look at her, only to find her already watching me. She was lying on her stomach, her chin propped up on her hand, her dark hair tousled in a way that made her look effortlessly gorgeous. 

"Morning," I murmured, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from her face. 

Instead of answering, Carmen made a small, dramatic sound and buried her face into the pillow. 

I blinked. "What was that?" 

"I don't wanna get up," came her muffled voice. 

I bit my lip, amused. "Carmen—" 

"No." She lifted her head slightly, her lips forming a small pout. "I refuse. I want to stay here. With you. Forever."