Between the moonlight filtering through the sheer window curtains and the soft glow from down the hallway I have enough light to see everything in my bedroom, but all my attention is fixed beside me. My hands want to move on their own accord, but I know I should just close my eyes, rest my head down instead of keeping it propped up with my fist.
Smiling, I bite my lip. I really don't want to move. This position offers me a sight I could just soak in until daybreak… Even though my fingers ache from the hours of work I did during the day, my fingers will forget about it the second they glide over the porcelain skin nestled against cream bed sheets. Simple cotton sheets, I might add… something familiar and comfortable. I bought them in the hope that they might help with sleep, and from the looks of it they really do work. I can't help but grin at my cleverness, but at the same time I frown at their lack of power over me. If this cotton was doing its job I should be finding myself drawn to get comfortable and close my eyes, to be immediately assuaged of the stresses of life.
Even though I am now an expert on all things "common", I never was a commoner, never one to struggle materially.
To be wholly honest, the sheets have nothing to do with my not sleeping. It's the sight beside me that has me conscious and aware, unwilling to succumb under the spell of sleep. If I close my eyes I'll miss out on this… I am entranced, willingly to trade these moments for only a few hours of sleep.
With the slightest stir, a few tendrils of brown hair slide across a forehead sometimes furrowed or creased over some type of worry. The silken locks fall to frame such smooth cheeks. True joy comes when I bring about a smile to that lovely face, such an exquisite face. So smooth a complexion, so rosy her lips, and the blush that kisses I elicit from that cream skin of hers.
She's beautiful, and the fact that she's here, sleeping so soundly beside me makes me sigh in contentment…
My eyes go wide for a second and I cover my mouth. I don't want to make any noise to wake her. As long as she sleeps, I can stare like this with ease, no fear of brown eyes rolling under my undivided attention.
I can hear her now, "Go to sleep, Tamaki, you know you need it." Even when being logical she's just so cute I can hardly contain myself. But I've matured, I believe. I've learned some "self control", something she said I needed to apply more of. I manage with only a few hugs per day now, and the number of kisses… well, if not combined with the hugs we usually indulge in a fair share of those as well. And our rare but cherished moments spent where we are now, when the world seems to shut down and we're the only ones in existence…
My thoughts lead my eyes to glide up the length of her arm, pausing at the soft curve of her shoulder, continuing on to her neck, up to the smooth skin of her cheek and the rose tint to it…
Even these days she blushes at the mere contact of my hand stroking her face. And the flush of her skin still makes me melt.
Closing my eyes tight, I try to reign in my desire and remember how she's not as big a fan of late-night adventures as I am. Well, she didn't mind me waking her in the past, but now things have changed a little. She's more exhausted, needs every minute of sleep she can get. And I am an understanding husband.
She moves, shifting to her side from where she was lying on her back. I'm blessed now with a perfect view of her sweet face, her lips slightly parted, hair sweeping down across her nose. With the most gentle of touches, I brush the hair away and tuck it behind her ear. It was longer a few months ago, but now it's cut near the length it was when I first met her. She prefers the ease of it, and I don't blame her.
She rubs her cheek further into her pillow, and immediately I envy the cushion, sighing wistfully.
"Oh Haruhi," I can't help but whisper. But, of course, she's a really light sleeper these days and for a few second there I had forgotten… I hold my breath the second her lashes flutter and her eyes open slightly.
"Tamaki." Her voice is breathy and sweet, and I smile, hopeful that her mood is as amiable as her tone of voice.
"Yes, mon coeur?" I ask. She smiles at me and leans far enough to reach me, giving me a unexpected, but unbelievably pleasant kiss. My lips form to hers so easily, and I feel my heart speed up, as it always does.
"Have you been watching me sleep again?" She asks upon pulling back, slight amusement behind mock annoyance.
"It's just something I indulge in once in a while," I admit as I draw closer, brushing my nose against hers.
She smiles and shifts again, this time moving to sit up, the blanket falling from her shoulders. She's wearing a lacey periwinkle hued brassier, one I brought home from a trip to Paris just a month ago. My face heats up as I wonder if she's wearing the matching panties, and I begin to sit up too, but her hands grip my shoulders lightly, and she pins me down to the bed under her slight weight.
"Let's enjoy something else tonight," she says, and I can't help but grin at my luck. She leans down for a kiss, but stops the second a creak of another bed mattress is heard. Her ears must be especially tuned for certain sounds, because it takes me a little longer to hear what's caught her attention. She turns to look off to the right in the direction of her beside table. Even though I can't see her face as her hair obscures my view, I know that particular silence and hesitation. Our late night fun is to be put on hold in three… two… one.
Crying bursts from down the hall, echoed by the blaring sound coming from the monitor on Haruhi's bedside table, a string of lights flashing across its face. Haruhi groans and collapses back in her spot on the bed, her hands covering her face. I find it kind of funny, despite being interrupted from spending some quality time with my sweet wife. My love for the crying angel overrides any annoyance I might feel.
Haruhi reaches over and slaps my chest softly. "It's your turn, remember?"
Nodding, I hold her hand and kiss it as I sit up. "Yes, I remember."
I slip my feet into my slippers and grab my robe from the off a chair near the door.
"Heat the milk for 20 seconds."
"I know," I assure her.
"You set it for 20 minutes last time…" she pointedly reminds me.
"Yes, yes," I tell her, glad she can't see the embarrassed blush on my face as I leave the room. "I'll take care of her. Don't wait up for me…" I say as I pass through the door, but look back in and add with a smile, "that is, unless you want to."
Oh, how I hope she chooses the latter.
A/N: This is my first Ouran fic, as well as my first attempt at 1st person narrative. I had the idea sometime ago and just wanted to write it, especially after reading the last of the manga. I just LOVE this couple, so I had to write something dedicated to them and everyone else who really enjoys this pair of lovebirds.
Oh, I have another chapter (in Haruhi's POV) I might add to this… it depends on whether or not people want to read more =). So, please review and let me know what you think. I'll see about updating with more. Thanks for reading, everyone =).
~The Honorable Gucci