Safe to say everyone in the town of Brighton is fast asleep at this ungodly hour of 3am. Or at least, that's what Molly McGee had thought until a dull light pulled her out of her sleep.

Molly blinked from her pillow and looked to her right. She could hear whispering noises, finding out that light from earlier was coming from inside her sheets.

Molly wiggled under the covers, and found her girlfriend jotting down words in her journal illuminated by flashlight.

"Lib? What are you doing?" Molly asks rubbing her eyes.

"I didn't mean to wake you. I'm writing."

"Writing what? We finished homework hours ago."

Libby stifled her giggling in her consideration to the other tenants of the McGee house who were sound asleep. Molly brought her head closer with Libby inviting her into her space by wrapping an arm around her. A simple affectionate move, but Libby's heart accelerated nonetheless when gaining the familiar warmth Molly passively gave off. Molly eyes scanned the small notebook, filled with a familiar styles of writing.

"You're writing poetry!"

"Well attempting to-, would be a good way of putting it. Do you want a peek?"

Molly's smile grew looking at different doodles, mostly turtles, stanzas of Libby pouring out her heart, the very aesthetic alone was beautiful. Most lines were about sacrifice, love, and a certain Eurasian with a fondness of fuzzy socks.

It took a few seconds for Molly to understand, and she still couldn't believe it.

"Shut up! You write poems about us?"

Libby started to blush and looks away while sheepishly scratching her head.

Molly smiled brightly.

" I don't know what to say Libby! No one has ever written poetry for me before. You don't mind if-"

Molly was handed the notebook as she skimmed along the passages, seeing her partner blush in the corner of her eye.

"Everything all right Libby?"

"Uhh Molly, it's nothing really, it's just some of my choice of words might come off a tad... cheesy."

"Nonsense! Your word choice is flattering me," Molly's free hand found her partner's and interlaced with one another, "Oh gosh, you think my eyes are intensely beautiful?"

Libby nodded proudly.

"Why thank you. You know you're very cute yourself, Libby."

A gentle kiss was pressed against Molly's lips as the poet sighed, relaxed and happy. Molly shared that reaction as well, letting off a light yawn.

"I want to fall asleep in your arms, while you read to me."

"Okay, only because I woke you up. I'll read you one I wrote last week called, Libby's favorite turtle."

"Sounds good," Molly responds with her eyes already closed.

"Whose turtle is that? I think I know.

Its owner is quite happy though.

Full of joy like a vivid rainbow,

I watch her laugh. I cry hello.

She gives her turtle a shake,

And laughs until her belly aches.

The only other sound's the break,

Of distant waves and birds awake.

The turtle is optomistic, cute and deep,

But she has promises to keep,

After cake and lots of sleep.

Sweet dreams come to her cheap.

She rises from her gentle bed,

With thoughts of kittens in her head,

She eats her jam with lots of bread.

Ready for the day ahead."

"Molly?" Libby gently whispered to no avail, happy to bring her girlfriend those sweet dreams at an affordable price. She closed her notebook and switched her key light off, and delivered an innocent peck of her lips to Molly's forehead before saying her silent good night.