You opened your eyes slowly when you heard the sudden ring of your clock. You shut it off and began to get out of bed when your boyfriends strong arms pulled you back into your former position.

You had your chest to his stomach. Your head over his heart and your arms and legs intertwined. He hummed in content and attempted to keep you to his body.

"Where do you think you're going?" His raspy voice asked. You couldn't help but swoon.

"I have work, Mr. O'Connor. The studio wanted me there early."

You worked at MGM with him, except you worked behind the scenes and he worked in front of the camera. You worked in the casting department. You were bombarded with fresh faces every day between walk-ins and stacks of headshots of teenagers waiting for their big break.

"Can't you tell your boss that you're sick today? I got the day off." He whined like a child.

Donald was youthful, his childlike charm called to you from the first time you saw him. His dazzling blue eyes and toothy grin made you swoon in a way no other man ever could.

He showed up in the casting office one day after seeing you walk through the commissary. He asked his pal Gene who you were. Since Gene had cast Leslie Caron in An American in Paris and ran it by you to hire her, he was able to give Donald any sort of information he was looking for. Your name, your age, and your relationship status.

So, Donald showed up every day in the casting office with your favorite flower. This was a daily routine until you finally agreed to a date. That was two years ago, and he was still as sweet as he was then.

You pressed a tender kiss to his chin, "your offer is quite tempting but I'm afraid we have too much to do."

You started to get up again and this time he didn't fight you. You went on to get ready for the day as always. Of course, when you were putting on your heels the phone rang.

"You've been working so hard you deserve the day off. Take two days off, as a matter of fact." Your boss cheerfully announced. You scoffed and hung the phone up.

You marched back into the bedroom. Your heels clicking loudly against the wooden floors. Donald sat up in bed with his face buried in a script.

"You'll never guess who just called." You crossed your arms in front of you.

"Was it Ethel Merman?"

You kicked your shoes off and began to change back to your nightwear. "It was my boss. She gave me the day off. Tomorrow too."

"Perhaps I'll call in sick tomorrow too."

He laid down again and opened his arms wide. You laughed and launched yourself into his arms. You resumed your position as if there wasn't any sort of interruption.

"Perfect. Absolutely perfect." He whispered and kissed your temple. That it was.