62

59 | Waist Chain Gift

The sun was still lazy in the sky when I opened my eyes, but she—my little wife—was curled into the sheet like a kitten, soft breaths slipping past her lips. Her hair was a mess across the pillow, cheek pressed into my chest some time during the night. And I swear to every god above, I could've just stayed right there and watched her breathe for eternity.

Write a comment ...

Write a comment ...