The sound of sweet summer rain slowly pittering down on the outside windowsill was what woke Steven from his sleep that Sunday morning.
It often stormed in Mossdeep, due to the city being secluded on an island, so waking up like this was a usual occurrence.
And while most folks he knew might complain about Nature's alarm clock calling them from slumber, Steven did not mind one bit.
In fact, he loved the rain.
He found it fascinating how one moment, the rain could be a heavy, torrential weight, tearing across the city at an impeccable rate, and the next it could be like this: soft and peaceful, a delicate rhythm that relaxed one's body and mind.
But more than anything, the rain reminded him of the beautiful woman beside him, still encased in sleep's soft touch.
The normal consensus regarding Cynthia's personality was often referred back to elements of burning flames. However, those who really knew her, knew better.
While it was true that Cynthia had a short fuse and a colorful vocabulary, there was another side to her that the outside world has been forbidden from seeing.
In the moments that she managed to steal away for herself, Cynthia was quiet, only speaking when she felt words were necessary. She was calm and still, pushing down the need to be constantly occupying her time with work.
She would do simple things, like water her flowers or play the piano.
She held the same versatility as the rain. A raging storm in one moment, and a steady constant, the next.
And in his mind, Cynthia held its peace and elegance too.
When she spoke, her words were not mindless chatter. They always had a deeper meaning behind them, whether she stated it outright or not. When she moved, it was with the same grace of a Beautifly dancing in the wind. And in moments such as this one, when it was just the two of them, her presence alone made him feel at peace, at home—a reminder that there was a warm heart waiting for him at the end of the night.
Steven slowly shifted onto his side, trailing his eyes over Cynthia's sleeping face.
She looked like an angel, her delicate eyelashes fluttering lightly against her cheeks as she breathed, and her golden hair falling over the sheets like rays of warm sunlight.
He reached over and brushed away a few stray strands that had fallen over her lidded eyes.
It was soft and smooth beneath his fingertips, easily tucking back into place.
Not yet wanting to part with his sunshine,
Steven continued threading his hand through her long hair, until her breathing pattern shifted, indicating that she too, had woken.
Cynthia's storm-gray eyes slowly opened, and she lazily raised her gaze to meet his, a sleepy smile on her face.
"Morning already?" She asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.
Steven nodded, running his hand over her shoulder.
"Yes, though it's far too early to be up. Go back to sleep, love."
"But you're awake." She pointed out. "I'd much rather spend my time with you instead of asleep."
Steven chuckled and shook his head. "The rain woke me. But you had a long day yesterday, and deserve a bit of rest. Don't worry, we'll have all the time in the world together later."
Cynthia hummed, shifting closer to him, and exhaling a slow, deep breath. "Life's too short to be making promises like that." She told him.
Steven shifted himself so that Cynthia's head was resting comfortably on his chest.
"There you go again with your words of wisdom." He responded.
Cynthia's smile widened, and her gray eyes, sparkling with amusement, flicked up to his face.
"You making fun of me, Stone?"
"No, no, of course not. I find it fascinating how knowledgeable you are. Nothing you say ever goes without meaning."
"And there you go again with your fancy sentence structure." She joked.
Steven rolled his eyes "It's called, syntax, my dear, and I was trying to pay you a compliment, if you hadn't noticed."
The sound of Cynthia's laughter filled the room.
"Alright, alright, I noticed. Thank you." She conceded.
Steven leaned over and brushed his lips against the soft, pale ivory skin of her forehead.
"You're quite welcome."
Cynthia's gaze softened, any teasing long forgotten.
"I love you." She whispered the words into the crook of his neck.
Steven brushed his thumb carefully across her jaw.
"I love you more."
He stayed like that, get just caressing her face, her hair, until her breathing fell back into the steady pattern of sleep.
He allowed himself a few moments more to admire her beauty, before closing his eyes and following in suit, allowing the rhythm of the rain to lull him back into silence.