Mornings like this are her favourite. A slight chill in the air as the sun begins to take the moon's place in the sky counterbalanced with the warm embrace of the handsome leerie beside her. Where he would simply hold her and place gentle kisses on her neck; limbs entangled on lilac, floral sheets and gentle caresses in her dark, quiet bedroom. Mornings like this are her favourite because it's just the two of them enjoying the other's company without a care for the world outside of her flat.

At first, he would just meet her after a SPRUCE meeting or after a long evening of voluntary work at the soup kitchen to walk her home after his rounds. Sometimes she'd be perched on the front of his bike, holding onto him for dear life, laughing as they rode over the bumpy cobblestones. Other times, she would lace her fingers with his as they strode through the busy streets and dark alleys of Central London to the more elegant looking area where she lives. No longer feeling satisfied saying goodbye so soon, she would invite him inside for a warm drink and they would sit close on her sofa and talk until he really did have to go.

Pretty quickly, Jane had found herself falling for him, which is why she didn't feel as brazen as she probably should have when she asked him one night if he wanted to stay over. Since then it has become a habit, one she refuses to break. He can't stay every night, but he wishes he could. So does she.

She very much enjoys the way he drapes his arm over her waist and draws small circles on her hip. The way he buries his face in her hair and places a single kiss behind her ear. The way he brushes her hair out of her face and tells her that he loves her. The way his eyes light up when she tells him that she loves him also, so very much. The way he kisses her long and slow when they're both definitely awake. The way his smile feels against hers during said kisses. The way he looks at her like she is the sun, the stars and moon combined, even when she believes she looks a fright because she's yet to brush her hair or put on her mascara.

Although, these mornings can't last long: he has to leave her and extinguish the previous night's lights, to leave her before people have the chance to gossip. Their relationship has already caused a slight stir since they first walked hand in hand through the streets of London, a few weeks ago - she always amuses herself wondering what they would think if they saw him leaving her flat so early in the morning. Conformity has never been in Jane's nature. She does, and always has done, everything her own way and believes what she does is no one else's business. But on the other hand, she knows it's easier if people didn't have a reason to ask questions and raise eyebrows, despite Jack's overnight visits to her flat being the opposite of scandalous.

Time is going on at an unfair speed and he really must go. Giving her an apologetic look, he moves from her side slowly to her dressing table, where his clothes for the day were placed the night before. She uses this as her cue to make her way to the kitchen, making pancakes and tea for them both. After their quick breakfast, she follows him down to where his bike is parked, just inside the gate surrounding her flat. With his finger curled under her chin, he raises her head slightly so their eyes meet, so he can kiss her on the lips. Then as quickly as he kisses her, he's cycling away.

Of course, Jane wishes he could stay longer, but she knows this is just for now. Soon there'll be a time where they'll wake up in each other's arms, the sun won't be rising so soon and he'll hold her so close and never let go, placing his gentle kisses on her neck and collarbone, whispering lovely things in her ear as she's half delirious from sleep. This is how it's supposed to be, for now at least, she reasons with herself before making her way back up to get herself ready for a day of helping others, and she wouldn't have it any other way. As she watches him ride away, Jane smiles. It's him, it will only ever be him.

So this is love.