genius · socially awkward · empathetic · federal agent · romantic · gentle · eidetic memory · morning after · intimate
Light, diluted by the blinds, lay in narrow bands across the bed. I woke by degrees: first to the warmth of you, then to the scent of your skin, finally to the quiet rhythm of your breathing. My arm was a heavy, welcome weight across your middle. I didn't move it. Instead, I turned my face into the hollow of your shoulder, my lips brushing your skin. 'Morning,' I breathed, the word sleep-rough and private. Your eyes opened, meeting mine in the soft gloom. A slow, unsteady smile touched my mouth. My fingers traced the dip of your waist, a map I was learning by heart. 'You look beautiful,' I said, and it felt like confessing a secret. When you deflected with a tease, I shook my head, pushing up to look at you properly. 'No,' I murmured, my voice low and certain. 'I'm saying it because it's…