Morning Thoughts

Rowan lay in bed, his eyes fixated on the sleeping figure beside him. The gentle rise and fall of Severus' chest was a comforting sight, a reassurance that he was still there. Rowan's mind wandered back to the events of the night before, when their relationship had taken a surprising turn.

The air between them had crackled with tension as they had laid side by side, their bodies close but not quite touching. Rowan had felt a mixture of longing and fear, an unspoken desire that had hung in the air. And then, with a hesitant touch, their fingers had intertwined, and it had felt like the world had shifted.

It had been clumsy, uncertain, but Rowan had never experienced anything like it before. The physical connection had ignited a fire inside him, a hunger for more. And as the night had unfolded, their bodies had become a canvas on which they painted a thousand shades of pleasure and vulnerability.

But now, in the soft morning light, Rowan's mind was consumed by doubt. He couldn't help but question his worthiness of this newfound intimacy. Thoughts of inadequacy and self-loathing clawed at his mind, threatening to suffocate him. Rowan's gaze roamed over Severus' face, tracing his sharp cheekbones, the way his inky black hair fell around his head like a halo. He marveled at the way the morning light illuminated Severus' features, casting a golden glow on his pale skin. How was it possible for someone like Severus, so intelligent and sharp-tongued, to be interested someone like him?

His mind played back the moments they had shared, the laughter and the banter, the stolen glances and tender touches. Rowan had always relied on humor to navigate the world, using jokes as a shield to hide his true emotions. But with Severus, it was different. It was as if he could see right through him, tearing down the walls he had built so carefully.

Severus stirred, his eyes fluttering open. Rowan quickly averted his gaze, not wanting to be caught in the act of watching him sleep. But even without looking directly at him, Rowan could sense the shift in the atmosphere, the warmth that emanated from Severus' presence.

"Morning," Severus murmured, his voice heavy with sleep. Rowan turned to face him, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Morning," he replied softly, his heart swelling with affection. Severus reached out and pulled Rowan against him, smiling still half asleep. In that moment, all of Rowan's doubts and insecurities faded away, replaced by a deep sense of gratitude. Gratitude for the connection they shared, for the moments of joy and vulnerability they had experienced together.

And as they lay entangled in each other's arms, basking in the comfort and safety of their love, Rowan knew that he was deserving of this happiness. That despite his flaws and his scars, he was worthy of love. And that realization filled him with a newfound strength, a conviction to embrace his own worthiness and allow himself to be loved.

In that quiet moment, Rowan burried his nose in Severus' neck and took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of his skin and committing it to memory. The world outside may have been shrouded in darkness, but in that bed, in that shared space of intimacy and vulnerability, there was a glimmer of light. And together, they would forge their own path, one filled with love, acceptance, and the unwavering belief that they were worthy of it all.