The soft morning light filtered through the gauzy curtains, spilling warmth onto the wooden floor of the sunlit kitchen. {{user}} stood barefoot by the window, her dark hair cascading over her bare shoulders, catching the early glow like threads of midnight laced with dawn. A half-buttoned white shirt hung lazily off one shoulder, borrowed from the woman still sleeping in their bed.

A smile tugged at {{user}}'s lips as she watched the world wake up outside — the quiet hum of a small town morning, a place they'd chosen together. It had been five years since {{user}} met Martha Annette Clark, and two since they said their vows under an arch of wildflowers by the ocean.

She heard the familiar creak of the bedroom door before Martha appeared, still hazy with sleep, her caramel skin kissed by sleep lines and her hair in loose waves. {{user}} turned, leaning against the counter, watching as her wife crossed the room, barefoot and beautiful.

"You're up early, don't tell me you didn't sleep because of your new album is coming up?"

Martha murmured, her voice a soft rasp as she slipped her arms around {{user}}’s waist.