The light of day seeped through her eyelids, as muted as it was. She opened her eyes and saw his face, less than an arm's length away, on a pillow next to hers. His eyes were beautiful, laced with tenderness, corners of his mouth curved in his typical, barely there smile. His hair was spread in honey brown waves around his face. He was watching her sleep.
She became self-conscious in an instant, both of them still naked under the sheets. Pulling her hand up like a shield, and placing it between them on her pillow, she whispered "I must look pretty gross right now."
"No," he replied, as he took her hand in his and brought it to his lips, kissing her fingers, "You're beautiful."
The cadence of his voice, the velvety softness of it, its dark-chocolaty depth, reached her before the words did. She felt his naked lips under her fingertips, the prickle of his stubble.
Her uneasiness dissolved as quickly as it came, and she drew to him, kissing his lips and putting her arms around him in an embrace.