Morning rain.

“Lay me down,” she said. He pushed his fingers softly against the soft flesh of her mouth, “Don’t speak.”

With hands soft as morning rain, he dropped her down on the bed, his body like a raging storm, devouring her.

As midnight came, he named every star in the sky after her.

When he fell asleep, the moon sighed and smiled down at the girl resting her forehead against his.

Perfect silver linings balanced on the edges of his nose, his chin, his mouth, every eyelash.

And she knew. He was the most beautiful thing she’d ever see.


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