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Twilight Mornings

by Mr V

Chapter 1: Twilight Mornings


Twilight Mornings

Your mind is still beautifully fuzzy, leaving you in a field of wild strawberries, comforted by the salty breeze of the ocean as you wait in the shade of your eyelids. Your breathing is soft and effortless as you lie there, slowly passing the moment where sleep gives way to the morning, and the touch of your dreams gives way to the feeling of the pillow under your head.

With one deep breath, you flex and stretch your muscles into wakefulness as you finally open your eyes. You blink away the last bit of bleariness, and smile when you see her. She's still asleep, lying on her back, her forelegs snugly curled against her chest and her eyes shut, even as the white light of the early sun shines through the curtain and paints a bright stripe along her face. Her breaths come quietly and slowly, slipping gently through her barely parted lips.

With a tiny squeak and a long sigh, she rolls over, her hind legs lifting and sliding under the sheet as she turns to drop herself heavily against you, her small body snuggling comfortably into the crook of your arm. You smile wider at the sight of her frazzled mane, her dark hair carelessly tossed about her forehead and spread under her neck as she lays her head on your shoulder. Carefully, you lift your hand to push away an errant hair that was beginning to tickle your nose. As you do, your finger brushes against her cheek, sweeping across her fine purple fuzz and over her skin, still hot and flushed with sleep.

You pause, passing the edge of your hand lightly along the base of her jaw, and with your thumb, you gently move the fringe from her face. Her eyes blink open, and she raises her head for just a moment to look at you. You can see a smile on her mouth to match your own as she closes her eyes and settles herself against your side once more.

“Good morning,” she says. You can feel her lips moving softly as she speaks, the wisps of her breath playing lightly upon your neck.

“Good morning.”

Twilight stretches with a little yawn, and quietly giggles as you lift her up, rolling her body on top of yours.

“Did I wake you?” you ask.

She doesn't respond immediately, instead nuzzling her head once again into the corner of your neck and simply lying there with you.

She smells of lavender and electricity. Her soft form fills your arms, and her chest presses against yours with her every rhythmic breath. You close your eyes once again, feeling the heat from both of your bodies as it flows up from the sheets and over your skin to mix with the cool morning air.

The two of you will lie there together, just as you do every morning. And with your eyes shut, you’ll wonder how you could have allowed yourself to fall asleep. After all, no dream was ever so perfect.

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