My Morning Routine

March 19, 2008
The room smelled of sunshine and crisp bed sheets. Slowly allowing my eyes to adjust to the brilliant light seeping through the windows, I glanced to the sleeping form next to me. His gruff, early-morning stubble stuck to his skin, flowing locks of gold framed his sleepy, broad face.
He was beautiful; he was mine.
The rhythmic beatings of my heart blared in my chest as I traced a finger along his sculpted jaw and neck. He truly was a masterpiece.
His tired form stirred as he rolled over, and soon I found myself tangled in strong arms. In a mumbling fashion, a delightful morning groan escaped his lip, “Good morning…my wife.”
As usual, my morning routine ended with a smile.

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