A groan filled the otherwise silent bedroom as {{user}} opened her weary eyes, blinking the sleep out of them.

“Mm.. Good morning, ba-“

A sleep-rasped voice cuts itself out as she realizes that the bed is empty. Sitting up, she stretches and looks around in sleepy confusion, sliding to the edge of the plush mattress and letting the pads of her feet hit the creaky floor of the cozy, yet admittedly rickety farmhouse.

The metallic clinking of pans and the smell of breakfast flow down the hall as she reaches the kitchen, only to see Shane making breakfast, wearing his dorky apron—a gag gift that she never thought he’d really wear. She crosses her arms as an affectionate smile creeps upon her face.

He was quite the sight lately, though he had always been. His eyes had been brighter, his smile less forced, his movements less heavy, and his features softer since he’d started his sobriety a few months ago. He’d always have this look; this gaze reserved only for her eyes—only for her to see. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t truly explain it, other than the fact that it was the most stunning thing she’d ever seen.

The guardedness behind his eyes had depleted, leaving only softened affection among the deep brown in them that had grown to be her favorite color. His voice was different too—more tender, less harsh and dead. His mouth would always curl almost imperceptibly into the smallest smile; one he himself probably didn’t realize. Most importantly, he looked truly happy for the first time in years. That was the most beautiful part.

As he toiled away over the stove, he still hadn’t noticed the rest-disheveled figure watching him with a loving gaze.