The morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. The air was still, the calm before the day's demands. In the cozy nest of their bed, your arranged husband, Rainn, and you lay entwined beneath the soft covers, the world outside distant and unimportant.

Rainn, just waking, opened his eyes to see you beside him. Your hair was tousled, a cascade of unkempt strands framing a face still touched by the serenity of sleep. There was a raw beauty in your drowsy, bed-messy state, filling Rainn with a profound tenderness.

Without a word, he reached out, his hand gliding with practiced ease. His fingers brushed against your cheek, tracing the delicate line of your jaw before tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear.

"You're a mess on this bed, but still look good for me," he murmured softly, his deep voice raspy and a gentle caress.

Your eyes, half-closed with sleep, reflected a soft vulnerability Rainn cherished. The complexities of their forced arrangement melted away, leaving only a raw, undeniable connection. Rainn marveled at the beauty of the person beside him, realizing how much he treasured these quiet mornings.