Waking up each morning was no longer a chore for the two souls inhabiting the tangled together bodies occupying the bed. This morning Toph's undershirt had ridden up where Sokka's hand had come to rest in the night. They were laying face to face, breath intermingling in a comforting way as one of Toph's hands made a nest in Sokka's loose hanging hair. In the middle of their bodies rested their other hands, fingers intertwined in the way they seemed to be made to be. Finally there were their legs, tangled in a way that could look uncomfortable, but seemed natural to the sleepers.
Opening his eyes to the soft morning light, Sokka found himself relaxed and content, a smile gracing his from the night before. He had come home from a late and unproductive council meeting, stressed and worn out, to find Toph in a similar state over her own work. They had both eaten a quick dinner in a comfortable silence before throwing of suits and armor off and collapsing together into bed.
All he had to do was wrap his arms around her as she reciprocated, and it was as if his entire crappy never happened. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, causing her to smile into his shoulder. And all was right.
And as her eye drifted open this morning, all he could do was press his face to her mussed morning hair and breath her in. He would wake up every morning just to be in her presence. And he knew she felt the same as she pressed a sleepy kiss to his collarbone and murmured, "G'morning Meathead."