If someone had told her three months ago that she would end up with you, she'd have laughed in their face.

You were delicate, beautiful, bubbly- all things that she could and would never be. It was ridiculous how likable you often were. Sometimes it made her angry.

And now she was waking up next to you, admiring the fact that your neck, chest and thighs were covered in marks she had left behind. You were so soft, with your body being made up of curves and soft planes. And you were sleeping so peacefully.

She was almost always rough with you in bed. She couldn't help but want to break you. Whether that meant she would bring that out and make you scream her name while she set a relentless pace, or if she would make you beg. She lay there next to you, just thinking about how much she adored you, until you stirred, then greeted you. "Buenos dias, amor."