A LITTLE SOMETHING I THROUGH TOGETHER JUST BECAUSE I'M OBSESSED WITH DOWNTON ABBEY, AND THIS COUPLE IS DEFINITELY MY FAV!
A NEW DAY
Sybil opened her eyelids hesitantly. They still felt heavy as she began to process first soft beams of light that were just beginning to peek through the curtains. It had been a humid summer night and was bound to be a humid summer day in Dublin.
Sybil opened her mouth in a yawn, bringing her hand up, but then paused, yawn somehow forgotten. There, glistening sweetly on her finger, was a simple band. Her face broke into a radiant smile—she was married. Good and proper married. She pulled the thin sheets up slightly higher and scooted herself even closer to her sleeping husband, if that were possible, letting her eyes drift shut again while entertaining memories of last night—her wedding night.
He had kissed her with so much passion, so much tenderness, so much love—she brushed her fingers across her lips, sighing at the memory and felt the butterflies take flight in her stomach with an excited flurry.
He pulled away slightly, still holding her firm and close.
"Are you nervous?" he whispered. She took a few gulps of air, trying to steady her breathing. Placing her hand against his cheek, she looked him directly in the eyes, and her heart almost stopped.
"I trust you," she murmured.
"Together, then," he whispered, as his lips connected with hers again.
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The sun was clearly up now, pressing its way insistently through the curtained window, as Tom opened his eyes and was struck by the most beautiful sight he had ever laid eyes on—or, he was sure, would ever lay eyes on again.
His wife lay on the bed next to him, her dark hair splayed out across the pillows, her full lips parted slightly as the morning sun kissed her face.
He remained where he was with his arm securely wrapped around her waist, watching her sleep. How had he been so blessed? What had he done to deserve her? Nothing, he knew, but his heart soared in thanksgiving to God for entrusting such a precious and remarkable gift to him.
After some time he leaned over her cautiously, placing a gentle kiss on her temple, before getting carefully out of bed and moving to the kitchen—she would be hungry when she woke. He hummed old Irish folk songs as he prepared a simple breakfast—a couple of hard-boiled eggs and some toast.
Returning to the bedroom, he is brought to a halt in the small doorframe. She is sitting up, back elegantly straight, clutching the sheets to her chest, as they pool around her form, her hair falling loosely over her bare shoulders and back.
She must have sensed his eyes on her because after a few moments she turns her head, taking in the image of him in the doorway with only his pajama pants on and a breakfast tray in hand. Her lips curve into a shy smile and her cheeks become tinged with a light blush as she turns back to the window.
He sets the tray down on the end of the bed, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her against his chest.
"I love you," he whispers as he places a soft kiss on her shoulder.
"I love you," –her neck
"I love you," –her cheek
"I love you," –her lips.
He could hold her forever, he thinks, and never want for anything. The sacrament is finally complete—they are spiritually and physically one—and nothing can separate them.
THE END