He likes caf in the mornings. It's the only way he can wake up. The chrono goes off
early and I burrow under the covers for a while longer, wrapping my arms around him as we
lay in those last few minutes of sleepy bliss. He usually gets up the second time it goes
off, kisses my cheek and pulls the blankets onto the floor, so that I'm cold and have to
get up to retrieve them. And once I'm out of bed, I might as well stay up.
into the kitchen and stare at him for a moment. The sight of him does more for me than
all the caf on Coruscant. He wears boxers, white with stripes. Blue, usually, sometimes
green; plain cotton. He's got others; black silk, one pair with red flowers that I adore,
but he only wears those long enough for me to strip them off of him. And in the morning
it's back to cotton.
He stands in the kitchen, staring blearily at the foodsynth as
though he can't remember how to work it, and I slip in front of him and punch up two cups
of caf, strong as the machine can make it. He nods once, a jerk of his head and sits down
at the small table by the window, looking down on the morning traffic. Sometimes I laugh
at him and he grumbles and lays his head on the table.
More often, though, I lean
against the foodsynth and watch him read the morning news on his datapad. His brown hair
falls into his face and he doesn't bother to push it back. I love to see his hair in his
face. He thinks that it makes him look wild, untamed, but in the morning he just looks
tousled and kissable.
Then the caf is ready and I carry the cups to the table. I
set his before him and run my fingers through the silken strands of his hair. He takes a
sip and smiles-- always that little smile that melts my heart-- then sets the cup down,
wraps his arms around my waist, and rests his head on my stomach.
And I could die
I tilt my head and look at him, at the way his eyelashes shadow his cheeks
and his lips purse just so. His arms tighten adn I can't breathe, but I don't care, then
he sighs and I barely hear the words-- "I love you."
Then he looks up at
me, his brown eyes soft and shining and I bend down to kiss him. Just the softest brush
of lips, then I sit down beside him and we smile at each other over our cups and know that
the day has begun.
Back to Antigone's fic