Porcelain
It glowed and glimmered, shinning under the dull rays of the morning's quivering sun. It held a soft, beautiful radiance that so few could possess. Many thought it to be a sickly color, but many more found it to be unusually breath-taking. Pale ivory, nearly white- flawless.
He trailed his fingers down the figure before him, fluttering touches against the smooth terrain in which exposed itself to his eyes. It was soft: like the touch of a rose petal, or the smooth glide of a new silk. He enjoyed touching it- he always had, and is very likely to always will.
Down one limb, to the massive one that rested itself against his waist, holding their bare hips together and securing their bodies close for the duration of the morning's stay. He intertwined their fingers, slipping his between the still hand of his partner - and he marvled at it.
The contrast of his own golden skin, against the soft snow-like color. It made them both pop out, he in his own radiant, lively contour; and his partner vibrant with a gentle shade of a winter-kissed complexion.
Those larger, duller fingers squeezed softly for a moment, before settling for a grip that was present enough to display his state of wake. The bed shifted slightly, it creaked under the change of moved weight as a soft breath now brushed ever so gently against the bone of his cheek, and he felt a smile on his own lips when a plumper pair pressed themselves against the cheek in which his breath had just previously been. There was a deep rumble beneath the fingertips that rested against his chest: a small hum gruff with the weight of a new day.
He looked up, and amongst the ivory covered features, he caught onto the two, enticing violet orbs in which glazed in the newness of morning, not quite used to the light just yet. Long eyelashes brushed against a pale cheek, and the lips he'd just felt slowly spread into a warm, tired smile. He looked lovely in this kind light, like a delicate doll of porcelain.
"Good morning, Fredka."
"Good morning, Vanya. "