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Rated: E · Prose · Romance/Love · #1186941
A morning moment captured between two souls.
It is early. The sun has yet to make its appearance over the horizon, has yet to rise up over the mountains to shine down. The sky is a husky blue-gray color, speckled with clouds here and there. But all of this goes unnoticed by a young couple lying in bed on this cold West Virginia morning.

They are absorbed in their own world, where it is not cold at all, but warm, so warm. They lie side by side, her arm resting on his chest and her head on his shoulder. His hand is lying on her waist, his fingers lightly curled. She is still asleep, but he is wide awake. He often wakes himself earlier than necessary to watch her sleep, and he is glad for it. His eyes trace her face, the slight curve of her jaw, the dark lashes against pale, pale skin, the natural pout of her lips and the way they fall open slightly, the small lock of auburn hair that falls across her forehead all fascinate him, and he finds he can’t look away.

Eventually, though, she senses someone’s eyes on her, and she sleepily blinks her eyes. In his opinion, she looks far too much like a sleepy kitten for her own good, and so he kisses her, to wake her up and because he searched for any excuse to kiss her. His young bride responds in the way she can only replicate while half asleep, there is a soft passion to her kiss in these hazy morning moments, and he drinks it up. She smiles slightly and slides out of the warm bed, heading to the small kitchen to fix them both a cup of strong, sweet coffee. She takes her time, and by the time she is finished he has rolled out of bed and made his way to the front porch, taking a seat on the porch swing.

She hands him his cup and leans against the rail to face the slowly rising sun, her eyes assuming a far-off appearance that wasn’t dreamy, but rather sort of content. He loves this expression on her face, because he has seen her eyes jaded and smoky and he hates it when they get like that. He has done his very best and succeeded at keeping that look from her gaze the length of their brief but full marriage. He swears to her that it is the mountain air that does this to her, something in it that calms and soothes the restless thing inside her and causes that contented, peaceful expression to rise to the surface.

The young man sets his now-empty coffee mug on the porch railing and rises to stand beside her, ready to face the day together.
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