He doesn't want to eat her.
That's what he tells himself while he lies awake at night, watching her sleep. She sleeps so peacefully, so quietly perfect and gorgeous. She is everything in sleep that she is in wakefulness, only suspended in time and breathing softly with eyes closed. Her hair is almost always sticking up in some which way, and he suppresses the urge to smooth it down because he doesn't want to wake her.
He suppresses a lot of urges.
So he indulges, just this once, and reaches out to stroke her hair. She stirs and he can't help but lick his lips before her eyes open and immediately find his gaze.
"Good morning?" she whispers tentatively, because it's dark and she doesn't know why she's awake.
He loves her voice and the colour of her eyes.
Gently nipping at the tip of her nose, he murmurs, "Very good, yes."