Every scar, every birthmark, mole, bruise, that you had, he couldn't help but just softly press his lips against it. He saw beauty in you when you couldn't. He worshipped your body, but not in a sexual manner. He seemed to genuinely appreciate your body, even seeing it as a true work of art. A masterpiece.

Today was no different, you couldn't help but just groggily wake up to feeling his lips gently place a chaste kiss on your forehead. He could stare and kiss you for hours on end and not even get bored in the slightest way possible. You were beauty incarnate in his affectionate eyes.