The rays of the early morning sun glow dimly between the shutters, directly onto Romano's eyes. He mutters several curses in Italian while still in between waking and the world of dreams. Strong arms around him bring about his senses and Romano realises where he is.
His eyes shift upwards to rest upon the image of his Spanish lover, still tucked in the folds of blankets and sleep. The sight of the man he loves brings a slight grin to his face, which he begins to suppress, but allows once he realises there's no one around to see.
He'll never admit it, but Antonio means the world to him. Always, Romano compares himself to his brother, drags himself down, thinks that no one will ever love someone like him. But being with Toni, just lying in his arms like this, makes him feel like the most beautiful man in the world. Of course, he'll die before he tells Antonio that.
He snuggles up closer to his love, burrowing his head into Toni's shoulder. Unfortunately for him, the sudden movement wakes the Spaniard, and his green eyes, still half-shaded, become visible in the early morning light.
"Lovi..." he murmurs, tightening the embrace.
The Italian's face grows red as he replies affectionately under his breath, "Damn tomato bastard," and presses himself close against Antonio's chest.
And for the time until the sun forces them to rise from their slumber, Romano is perfectly content to stay, enfolded in the warmth radiating from his lover's skin against his.
Not that he'll ever tell.