IRIS

The morning light is warm and soft, but it is his body beside mine that makes it feel like the safest place in the world.

I lay on my side, facing him, studying the curve of his jaw, the way his lashes brush against his bruised cheek. His hair is tousled, lips parted just enough to tempt me.

God, I missed him.

I reach out, let my fingers trace the line of his cheekbone, slow and gentle. He stirs under my touch, breath hitching. I lean in and kiss his cheek, then again closer to the corner of his mouth. A whisper of a grin pulls at his lips....