you watch their face in the morning. at first a blank canvas. peaceful and soft in sleep. then, reliable like clockwork, the tiny crease appears between their brows, and they do that circular squirming motion with their mouth and nose. just once at first. pause. the tiny brow crease deepens to a frown. lips pursed, nose scrunched ever so slightly, around they go again. and again. their nostrils flare and relax, flare wider, relax, flare even wider and stay flared as their lips finally part to let the first, fluttering gasp into their lungs -
their eyelids flicker. something like confused worry pass over their face, their consciousness still trapped in sleep but floating closer to the surface with each second. you focus on their nose then, shamelessly caressing it with your eyes if not your fingers. not just yet. tracing the modest length of the bridge, the softly upturned tip, the elegant oblongs of their nostrils that are visibly twitching now, still flared with both tension and swelling. a light sweet pink and shine to the outer curves. beautiful. and so, so tickly.
one of their hands escapes the warmth of the blankets and they scrub it back and forth across their nose, producing a damp, clicking noise as their nostrils are pushed first one way, then the other. it seems to help. they sigh with drowsy relief, relax and begin to lower their hand, only to quickly raise it again a second later, working their knuckles under their nose again with even more fervor than before, upper lip drawn into a frustrated grimace.
they seem to freeze for a long moment. sleep-tousled head reared back and pressing deep into the pillows, mouth hanging open, eyebrows forming an upside-down 'v' of pained anticipation as their hand hovers limply in front of their face, prepared to catch what's looking to be a harsh awakening.
you reach out, run one outstretched finger down their nose, ending with a gentle tap at the quivering tip.
their eyes fly open - "wha...? hhHHIH -!" - fully awake at last, and hit with the unfiltered force of a whole night's accumulation of pollen and dust, not to mention the bright morning sunlight peeking through the blinds.
even after that final, desperate gasp, they don't seem to have enough air to fuel the first sneeze that bursts out of them, a short, deafeningly sharp detonation in the still morning quiet.
the first of many, many to follow.
you couldn't ask for a better start to your day.
andulkaphoto
germansingergirl
dededos
snowghoul
janainaart
yousharknotpass
jbbartram-illu
2087
titsay
