The birds chirping outside are the first thing I hear.

It's the last day of March and it's finally starting to warm up, the air bright, holding the promises of spring, of sunshine and new life.

It's been warm a few days already this month, but nothing like this week.

This week the frigid grip that descended on New York this winter has finally started to loosen.

It's wonderful.

The sun is bright, lighting up the room in a way that tells me it's later than I normally sleep.

I can tell I'm alone in bed without moving. Very rarely are you the first one up and out of bed, choosing usually to stay wrapped up in me as long as possible. I love it. I turn over to sheets that still hold the promise of your body heat, wishing I saw your dark hair splayed out beside me. I take a deep breath in, savoring the smell of your pillow, your perfume, your you and I drift back off into a peaceful snooze

Your hair tickles my cheek as you bend down to kiss it pulling me from my slumber. "Scoot over, baby."

The smile that spreads across my face is immediate and I slide over to make room for you. You crawl into bed beside me, replacing your pillow with your body. Kissing me on the forehead and pulling me into you.

And, oh baby, I love it when you do that.

I kiss your neck, once, twice, three times. I smile into it. I nuzzle my nose under your jaw line, moving there next. Once, twice, three times. I tuck my head between yours and the pillow and breathe you in. That smell, that smell is what I miss most when you're not around. It grounds me.

I hear you softly giggle before you turn your head and kiss my shoulder. All I can picture are your lips. I so badly want to kiss them, make them mine, but I don't want to move. I want to stay in your cocoon, wrapped up in you, for as long as possible. Your legs tangle with mine below the sheets and I can feel you everywhere. The look that you'll have on your face, in your dark eyes, that look makes me never want to leave this bed.

I pull my face out of the crook of your neck, kissing my way down your jaw line, moving up to hit your nose before I pull my face even with yours. Our foreheads touch and I finally open my eyes to see yours sparkling back at me. It's clear what you want, I want the same.

But, first, I want to just look at you.

My lips pull into a sly smile a whisper away from your impish grin and I finally find my good morning kiss.

And then another and another and another until we are sweating and panting and falling and smiling.

This time when I wake up, I'm not alone. You are draped over me, arm across my chest, leg across mine, face tucked into the crook of my neck. The feeling of you on top of me grounds me. I roll into you and wrap my arms around you, kissing the side of your head, your neck, your shoulder again and again and again until I feel you laugh. I pull back, greeting you with a giant smile, my special smile, my you smile. We whisper in the late morning air, not wanting to disturb the magic.

"Happy Birthday, my love." Your eyes are so bright and warm with your words, your dimple so deep on your cheek. My whole being sings with happiness.

"Thank you, honey."

We stay there quiet after that, stealing kisses and touches and sealing promises.

You watch me stretch and giggle when I let out a little whine, your eyes darkening. I kiss you again just because and hold your face close to mine. I love it when you're soft like this. Unhurried.

"So… I was gonna take you out for brunch at your favorite place but we're about to miss our reservation..."

"Hmm… that's ok, baby. I don't want to get dressed yet." I kiss the pout away from your lips.

"Do you want to go somewhere else?"

"Nope."

"Are you sure?" you're nervous and quiet. I hate it.

"So, so sure." I smile wide and pull you closer to me, kissing you deeply. "I can't think of a better start to my birthday at all. Spending time with you naked was the best, best way to wake up and start a new year!"

You laugh at me and my show of enthusiasm, sure and strong, "Ok, dork."

"Mmm… your dork."

"My dork."

We finally untangle from each other and pull clothes on. As little as possible, as little as we can get away with. I manage to sneak one of your shirts over my head before you grab my hand and pull me into you. The length of your body against mine warms me like nothing else. We stay like that for a moment, before you slide your hand down my arm and take mine, linking our fingers together.

"Guess that means I'll just have to cook for you."

"Score."

"What do you want, darling?"

"Ummm…. pancakes and bacon….and eggs."

"Pancakes and bacon and eggs? Wow, really making me work for it today, huh?"

"You know it." I squeeze your hand and kiss you again before you leave me on the couch and head into the kitchen, your butt teasing me the whole way.

Before long I get tired of sitting on the couch by myself and join you in the kitchen, sitting on the stool. You're moving around the stove with graceful ease and it's so, so attractive. You keep brushing your long dark hair back away from your face and I feel myself swoon. You see me watching and you wink at me and my heart explodes again.

Baby, do you know what you do to me?

I can feel my cheeks blushing and a shy smile crawl across my face. You look at me and your eyes are hooded, we're on the same page. Half way through your cooking, you hand me a cup of coffee mixed just the way I like it and served with another devious smile.

It hits me like a truck, this feeling of happiness and disbelief that you're mine.

That I'm the one you look at like that. That I'm the one you kiss. That I'm the one you love.

And I know you're kind of worried about my birthday.

I could feel some of your anxiety about what to get me or what to do for a few weeks.

Which is silly really, because I'll love anything you plan. Or get me.

Because, baby, it's you.

This love that you give me and share with me... this love, Santana, is the best thing I could ever get.

You set breakfast in front of me with a smile and a kiss on my cheek, and join me with your plate and a freshly brewed French press. You let me plunge it down this time, smiling because you know how much I love to do it.

"So… these flowers here..?"

You smile, "What about them?"

"Well, they weren't here last night."

"No, they weren't."

"S… did you wake up early to get to the florist?"

You nod, "I may have, yes."

"Baby…"

"They're your favorites, Britt."

"They are my favorites, San. You're sweet."

"Only for you."

You stop trying to brush away the compliment when I kiss you, your lips tasting like syrup and coffee.

"Thank you, baby."

We finish breakfast and you shoo me out of the kitchen, not letting me help you clean up. I roll my eyes and saunter back to the bedroom, smiling as I peel my clothes off in a trail for you to find. I slide back into the sheets and wait for you, hearing the dishwasher start. Your shirt is off before you even walk in and I soak in your deliciousness as you crawl on top of me, your eyes on fire.

"You know what else is your favorite?" Your voice is husky and your eyes are black, and you slink down, down, down my body.