In his half-asleep reverie, Eros wonders if the world ever pieces together a day for someone; if it ever goes out of its way to draw up something uniquely perfect for them, and them alone. If it does, he thinks, today might be one of those days. He’s certain the birds outside must be chirping a love song for his and Aion’s ears only. That the sun had risen at just the perfect angle to illuminate their room in a warm, golden glow. If it is their day, he doesn’t want it to ever end.
So he blinks against the beaming light of morning, stuffs his head into Aion’s neck, and wills the passage of time away.
And Eros almost interrupts, ready to argue they have nowhere to be, that they should enjoy this time while they have it. But “I have something I want to show you,” Aion continues, and with the smile on his lips and twinkle in his eyes, Eros is powerless to deny him anything. He lets himself bask for a moment—not in the sunlight, but under Aion’s keen gaze; he’d ask if he sees something he likes, but he doesn’t need to to know his answer. Of course he does.
Eros allows himself one last languid stretch before rising from the bed to meet his mate at the door.
@aion
