[ 8. for our muses to spoon ] @memorykept
THERE IS THE KIND OF GENTLE ADORATION that rests in waking up next to an almost stranger. sunlight which covers the world in a golden glow unforgiving in its ability to tell the time. another day, another morning which came way too quickly and tore through the fabric of time with the intent to disturb the perhaps-in-another-life lovers. he wants to stretch, but finds that he can’t quite finish the motion which he has started so lazily in .
arm draped around the curve of henry his torso, gentle motion of the rise and fall of a chest like a melody which rises with the dawn. ❝ good morning, ❞ mon amour. adoration in french does not spill as easily as he wishes it could. not quite anything more than strangers who share a bed from time to time / just two people hungry for either love or carnal things. just two people who find familiar comfort in tangled limbs and lips locked in the somewhat familiarity that this particular bedroom has now started to bring.
the old cat with the peculiar name makes a sound and his mind comes a little bit more alive along with it. ❝ will you let me buy you breakfast this morning ? ❞