It was the time of day
where the sky was bi-polar,
changing from Egyptian blue
to a softer hue. Where stars
sped off to the moon, wanting
to nap under their guardian's
cosmic cloak. He grunted in
his daze, pulling her sheets
over his head in an attempt
to coax the moon out again.
He was not ready to leave
her bed, to give up the
weight of her body cradled
against his torso. He wasn't
prepared to go the day without
her jasmine curls teasing
his nostrils. He wanted to
bind his body with her, to fold
her against him and sleep and
dream and love her as much as
he could. But she stirred and
twisted in his grip, trying
to sit up. He smirked and
buried his head against the
curve of her neck, brushing his
whiskers against her cinnamon
skin. She stifled her giggles in
his tresses, falling into him and
the haze they created whenever
he was a mere centimetre from her.

He knew what was coming. She
would chastise him with no
heart backing up her statement,
warning him that if he did that
again her brother would hear
and how exactly was he going
to explain this hmm? To which
he would reply he had no idea
but he was a "fly by the seat of you
Trousers" man so he wasn't concerned.
She would huff and remind him
breakfast was soon and if he didn't
want any of the others finding
them, he had best leave. Any
further conversation was stifled
by his lips crashing into hers.

He hated hiding. He hated sneaking
around as though their love
was something to be ashamed of
but he had no choice (she had made
that very clear from the beginning).
And whenever she felt the need to
remind him they were unknown, he
would give her many reasons to
reconsider the secrecy nonsense.

Breakfast would be called,
signalling his dismissal.
Afterwards the band would
trek out into the frigid Paris
streets and perform. He would
think of her despite the distractions
and she confessed he was always
occupying a small percentage
of her mind as well. In the evening
it was dancing and singing and
acting and laughing and he would
find her hand and lead her into
a darkened corner and kiss
her senseless, making up for the
ones they had missed that day,
the ones they had missed before
they had met. Evening was their
time, the opportunity for passion to
overcome sense. For now
that was enough for him. But
there was a golden band
weighing down his pocket,
just begging to be put to use.