You're a Star

The dark shadows of stubble spread across his jawbone, contrasting into darker and lighter tones as his skin stretched. His rosy lips were parted slightly in sleep and deep shallow breaths draw themselves out. His chest was rising and falling, making him vunerable to the monsters of sleep. The sunlight that sliced through the askew Ikea blinds bathed him in a golden light. He looked like an angel with the bedsheets thrown across pronounced hips.

He wasthe epitome of beautiful.

The creases of his pillow had indented theirselves onto his unshaven cheek and one of his fists was curled tightly around the cotton material of his pillow. His other hand was resting lightly on the hollow of his stomach, his fingers flexing occasionally. The colours that bathed his tattoo were loud against the soft eggshell sheets and the ghosts of past kisses fluttered along the coloured edges.

His breaths were those of an angel.

His eyelashes painted their shadows onto their blank canvas, fluttering and dancing with the sunlight. At last, he was awake.

And as his blue eyes opened, I was reminded of exactly why I loved him.