DAWNLIGHT
by Simple Kumquat
Soft sunlight shone petals of orange and gold through the open window, letting an early summer breeze dance across the curtains to wake the woman from her sleep. Hair messed into bedhead curls tickled her nose; she blew it aside with a halfhearted huff, refusing to move. He lay beneath her, chest rising with gentle, rhythmic breaths to match a steady heartbeat beneath her cheek. A year together, a lifetime, the number mattered not for the time they would be together—a lifetime.
Lazy mornings are spent in peace, but the time to move—to do more in the world—would soon come and tear away the quiet times shared in the other’s arms. For now, however, the dawn still broke, and nightfall only crept closer through the light. To find him, her, to be together... The struggles of the past finally bore fruit, and he rolled awake, a smile stretching its way across his face as his world snuggled closer to him.
“You’re crushing me again, y’know?” He made no move to break free, only to return her sleepy embrace.
“Mmmm, then make me move.”
Together, they did nothing of the sort until the sun rose further; two hearts nestled in wordless affection and whispered kisses. Birdsong filtered through the air, a joyous harmony of many tangled together in beauty. A stretch, a yawn, and she slid off the bed and into her slippers, relishing the soft warmth of the sun. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, her gaze fell on the perfect, unruly mess who had drooled into the pillow below her. The sun warmed her skin as she always warmed his heart, through thunderstorms and lightning pain, Hell and high water.
“I’m making coffee, but you can make breakfast this time.”
He pried an eyelid open as she walked toward the kitchen. He watched her shamble away as she did without caffeine. Not that he was any better, but she was cuter—well, she was to him. The one to finish his duet. He hummed as he threw back the covers, instantly regretting the choice as the mid-June air was cooler than hoped. Bleary eyed, he grabbed towards his robe, finding only empty air and disappointment.
“Dearheart, did you steal my robe again?” he called, rolling his eyes at the windchime laughter that replied. “You know we could go out today to get you one, but you keep saying you don’t want one.”
“Why would I need one when I have yours?”
The bright noon sun shone brilliantly through the room as he wrapped a blanket around himself and headed to the kitchen. For that, she could make her own toast, but she could keep the robe.
She could steal it and keep it, just as she had his heart, for it could be nowhere safer.