The muttered greeting was a testament to the day having begun around Harry, forcing him to abandon any meeker prospects of getting to drift back asleep. Draco’s voice rang through him, seemingly spoken directly into his lungs, making Harry hum a response.<br/>His free hand reached to rub at his eyes, a thoughtless preparation for the world to once again be blurry.<br/>“Good morning,” he replied, voice equally muddled as he blinked his eyes open.<br/>The addition of another kiss made Harry’s exhale shaky, having grown unaccustomed to mornings like these. Both hands brushed across Draco’s scalp, too-aware of the fact that the plaid had managed to keep its shape. His hands settled at the nape of Draco’s neck, a soft encouragement to tilt his head upwards.