Coreplot: Morning After
Sunday morning.
Early sunlight streams in through the window, and completely fails to wake the two figures in the bed, asleep in each other's arms.
A patient observer would see the beam (filtered to a dusty gold by the windowglass) slide slowly across the bed and finally slip to the floor exhausted; would see the two sleeping people quietly breathing, faces smooth and untroubled, secure in each other and in the promised safety of this place.
There's a word for this feeling: Peace. Calm.
Serenity.
Simon feels himself slowly drifting to the surface of consciousness like a bubble, and just ... luxuriates in the feeling for a moment.
And then breathes in deeply, and opens his eyes.
Early sunlight streams in through the window, and completely fails to wake the two figures in the bed, asleep in each other's arms.
A patient observer would see the beam (filtered to a dusty gold by the windowglass) slide slowly across the bed and finally slip to the floor exhausted; would see the two sleeping people quietly breathing, faces smooth and untroubled, secure in each other and in the promised safety of this place.
There's a word for this feeling: Peace. Calm.
Serenity.
Simon feels himself slowly drifting to the surface of consciousness like a bubble, and just ... luxuriates in the feeling for a moment.
And then breathes in deeply, and opens his eyes.