Morning streaks of sunlight poured over the face of my beloved. It was the morning of our first year anniversary. A year since pain of rejection had ended. A year since I didn't believe in love. A year without pain. I'd looked upon him a thousand times, but that morning he was the most beautiful thing ever created. The shimmer of rosy gold gave him the incandescence of an angel. I looked upon him like I'd never seen beauty before in my life. If I could have poured that joy into him so that he wouldn't only know it, but feel it, I would have. But I just smiled to myself. My softened lips touched his scruffy face with a dry delicateness that I hoped would not stir him from such a needed sleep.
His scent filled me. I curled beside him, but I could no longer sleep. My movements must have roused him. He stirred beneath me.
"Mmmrrrgg," he said.
"Morning to you, too."
I giggled at him. My brown hair fell over his shoulder. He stroked it gently and lazily. A groan formed in his throat as his muscles stretched beneath me. I placed my hand over his arm to feel it tighten and release. The hairs tickled my palms. His muscle hardened and relaxed. I bent toward his neck and kissed him just under his jaw. I felt the muscles there tighten as he smiled. A small laugh escaped his lips.
His eyes turned to me, and I could see a bit of mischief in them. His lips reached up to meet mine. The corners were still smiling while he kissed me. I smiled, too. It was contagious.
"Happy first anniversary," he said with a quiet, delicious voice.