Trini knows that it is going to be a bad day as soon as her alarm goes off. She blinks rapidly, trying to adjust to the morning sunlight, to the blaring noise, to being awake. An arm tightens around her stomach, pulls her flush against her wife's warm chest, and she melts into the familiar embrace as she silences her phone, tugs the down comforter up to their noses. Laces their fingers together and brings the back of Kim's hand to her lips. Feels Kim tuck her knees behind hers and bury her nose between her shoulder blades, mumble sleepily, "five more minutes."

Trini knows that it is going to be a bad day because she should be waking up alone in their bed, a little chilly but covered with her favorite blanket; a worn pink quilt Kim has had for forever, to the sound of their shower running. Kim should have been up and getting ready for work half an hour ago.

"Kim?" The fingers threaded with hers flex a little too tightly, a little too quickly. She squeezes back, once, kisses each knuckle, then separates them. Feels Kim groan into her skin, feels her try to entangle their legs, feels her arms wrap around her waist. It takes her a minute, but Trini finally manages to roll over despite Kim's feeble attempts to stop her.

Trini takes in Kim's watery eyes and tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, kisses her forehead. Kim sniffles; a quiet sound, a minute twitch of her nose, that always makes her heart ache, and Trini lifts the comforter, "c'mere."

Her wife tucks her head under her chin and sinks into Trini's arms with a shaky sigh. Trini pulls the thick blanket over their heads, blocking out the too bright light, and entwines their calves the way she knows Kim likes. Kim does not cry, never cries on her bad days; not outright. Her shoulders tremble as Trini rubs soothing circles along her back, kneading out a tense muscle whenever she feels one under her palm. Her breathing is deep, even, forcefully controlled, except for the occasional sniffle. Trini cannot see them, but she knows that her eyes are red rimmed and bloodshot. But Kim does not cry.

Her alarm goes off again and Trini lets out a string of curses under her breath. Kim chuckles, barely, but it is there, and Trini feels some of the tension at the back of her neck uncurl. She manages to silence the phone again without jostling either of them too much. "Do you want me to call in to work?" Kim shakes her head. Burrows closer. Lets out a long sigh. Trini runs her nails along her scalp, her neck, drawing out another deep breath. "Do you want to call in?"

"No… I'm up."

Trini never pulls away first; if Kim needs to stay in bed, under the blankets, shut away from the world for the entire day then she will stay right there with her. There is nothing she can do to prevent days like this, she knows, because Kim has told her as much, but Kim has also told her that she helps, that just being here with her is enough. Kim does not need the entire day, not today, but she does need another half hour. Trini gives it to her readily, willing to lay in the muffled silence of their makeshift cocoon, fingers playing with Kim's hair as she lays her ear over Trini's heart.

Kim comes back to the present, to herself, inch by inch, stretched moment by stretched moment. Mimics the soothing rhythms of Trini's hands with her own along Trini's spine. Kisses her sternum, "thank you."

"Always." Kim pulls back to look at her, eyes clear, and Trini kisses her nose, "shower?"

"Mhmm."

"I'll make breakfast."