A summer morning

The sun had been up for a few hours now, its hot rays making their way into the bedroom through the leafy branches of an old oak. The white delicate lacy curtains were rippling when a slight summer breeze was trying to sneak inside through the open window.

Tessa was kneeling on bed in her light nightgown, reading an old tattered book. She was doing her best to turn the pages of the book as quietly as she could, not to make a sound, but half of the yellow pages was falling out. She was trying to grasp the book in the right place and put the content inside, but it turned out to be a rather clumsy grip. The spine of the book broke and the ragged pages scattered all over the thin summer sheets.

She quickly glanced at her husband, to see whether that little book disaster had managed to wake him up, but Will was still sleeping like a log. Tessa could swear they both had some bizarre sixth sense when it came to someone "hurting" the printed word.

He looked the most innocent in his sleep. His face peaceful, his features all black and white, except for the slightly flushed cheeks which made him look so adorably young. The dark mop of hair contrasted with the white pillow under his head; some of the raven-black strands were falling gently onto his eyelids, tempting Tessa to brush them off. His breath was steady, his lips slightly parted. The sheets covered him from the waist down, leaving his pale bare chest exposed, his left hand was resting on his stomach. This sight had stopped making her feel awkward only just recently. Now she was looking with fascination at the silvery scars, which once had been runes burned into his skin with a stele. Her fingertips knew the irregular edges of the old Marks too well. She could almost feel their roughness on her skin right in this moment, and it sent a pleasant shiver down her spine. She felt herself blush.

Busy with her own embarrassment, she didn't notice when he woke up. Seeing him staring at her, when she finally looked down, startled her a little bit. His still sleepy pansy-blue eyes were looking up at her with amusement. His lips curled into a familiar smirk.

"Oh, please, do continue," he said, his voice still hoarse after sleep. Tessa blinked. Her heartbeat was twice as fast as the ticking of the clockwork angel necklace resting in the hollow of her throat.

"Continue what?" she asked, raising her eyebrow.

"Oh, you know," he muttered while stretching, a devilish grin on his face. "Tearing old books apart, admiring my wonderful self, blushing at the thought of-"

"I did not tear the book apart," she cut him off quickly, cursing the blush on her cheeks. "It's old, it just fell apart."

Tessa started collecting the yellow pages and tried to put them in the right order. She saw out of the corner of her eye that Will had slightly pushed himself up on his right elbow. He looked down at the book.

"Goodness! What have you done to this old lady?" he exclaimed, his eyes on Tessa again. "And you say it fell apart? By itself?" he asked half-horrified, half-mocking.

"Yes, by itself," she replied, not looking at him. Then she sighed, looking at the remains of the old book in her hands. "Its time has come," she said dramatically, and then, smiling, glanced at Will. He reached his hand and wrapped one of her curls around his finger. His gaze fixed upon her face, a suggestive spark in his eyes. Tessa shivered slightly despite the summer heat in the bedroom.

"So has yours," Will said, pushing himself up to a sitting position, his blue eyes piercing. His left hand released her hair and moved onto her neck, pulling her gently into a kiss. The ragged pages of the old book scattered among the sheets were soon forgotten, which happened in this household only on special occasions."