[P] mornings are -

[Eros]

"i walked into the room dripping in
gold. a wave of heads did turn,
or so i've been told"

EROS

When Aion stirs beside him it’s still dark out, too early for him to register the time. He notices only the sudden chill at his side and nestles deeper into the silk blanket Aion just left. The warmth, though, never returns. In the dim light, his eyelids start to flutter and soon it’s harder to keep them closed than to open them. The sight he’s greeted with is sweeter than any “good morning”, more tender than any new-bloomed morning glory petal; haloed in sunlight stands Aion over their daughter’s crib, smiling down at her tiny frame. She’s enveloped in her blankets, warm and blissful in the light of the morning sun.

Eros stays still but for a moment longer, not yet willing to break the scene. He tries to commit it to memory, as he does all the small moments of Maret’s youth he knows he won’t get back; soon she’ll have lost her downy fuzz and have grown into her spindly legs. For now, though, she’s a filly, with a velvet-soft nose and hooves the size of crabapples. Eros simply can’t help himself from getting up to wonder at her, too.

He slips out of the covers to join Aion at the window, skimming his muzzle up his husband’s back. “She had to get something from me, after all.” Maret was dipped in Aion’s black, jeweled with one of his sea-blue eyes. “Can you believe we made something so beautiful?”

---

@aion
a post i promised u so a post u will get

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