Gemotions

She woke with the sun, a light touch on her skin. He was already awake, sitting at the small desk in the corner of their bedroom, bathed in the morning light. She watched him, the way his brow furrowed in concentration, the way he tapped his pen against his lips. A feeling of profound tenderness swelled within her.

He was oblivious to her observation, lost in whatever he was reading. She slipped out of bed, padded silently across the floor, and peeked over his shoulder. The page was filled with his familiar handwriting. The title, “The Architect’s Muse,” was scrawled at the top. She recognized herself immediately in the prose, the description of her laughter, the way she tilted her head when she was thinking.

She felt a rush of something akin to joy. She leaned down, gently kissing the back of his neck. He jumped, startled. She felt a giggle bubble up inside her. He turned, a blush creeping up his neck. “What are you doing?” he asked, his voice husky. "Just appreciating my architect." she responded, her voice light and teasing.