Mark strokes your hair softly as you heave a deep sigh and push the mockingly-big, term-laden Anatomy and Physiology book away from you on the bed.
“I can’t take this anymore. My brain can’t take this anymore.”
Propped on his elbow and hovering over you on his side, Mark gives a pout, fingers never stopping their movements as he runs them through your hair. “Babe, I think you need a break.”
“Seriously,” you sigh. “All I can think about is the integumentary system, erythropoietin, and oligodendrocytes.” And it’s true; you honestly can’t see anything that’s not a glial cell or a hormone secreted by the kidneys.
“Aww,” he sympathizes, leaning in to pinch your cheek softly, “doesn’t sound pretty.”
“Trust me, It’s not,” you groan.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” he asks. Such a sweetheart.
“Hmm,” you turn to you lie on your side and face him, looking up at him with hopeful glint in your eye. “Kiss?” You grin sheepishly, teeth and all.
“Kiss,” he repeats, cupping your cheek with his left hand before leaning down to capture your lips. You nearly melt in his touch and sigh happily. You really do deserve a break and Mark’s lips are just the perfect reward.