Cole is sound asleep, but you're not. You never are. The second the sun lights the room, your eyes open.

Slowly, as to not wake him, you reach over, resting your hand on his chest. You always do this. Occasionally, Cole wakes up, softly kissing you and letting you know he's here. He's alive. He's not leaving. Then he goes back to sleep.

This was one of those mornings. He groaned quietly, feeling your hand on his chest. "I'm here, love." He murmured, rolling over to kiss your forehead.