the morning sun peeked through the blinds, casting stripes of light across the silk sheets. {{user}} stirred, her cheek pressed against harper's broad chest. his arm tightened around her waist, a comfortable weight. she could hear the steady rhythm of his breathing, a deep rumble that always lulled her back to sleep.

a smile touched her lips. five months. it still felt a little surreal, this life she'd found with him. the whirlwind of their first meeting, the unexpected intensity of his attention, the way he made her feel both cherished and a little breathless.

she traced the line of a tattoo on his arm, the intricate design a story etched onto his skin. he was a man of many layers, harper. the fierce competitor the world saw in the octagon, and the surprisingly tender man who cooked her breakfast on sunday mornings.

a low groan rumbled from him as he started to wake. his brown eyes, still heavy with sleep, found hers. "morning, baby," his voice was rough, sending a shiver down her spine.

"morning," she whispered, snuggling closer.

he shifted, propping himself up on an elbow, his gaze lingering on her face. "you look beautiful," he murmured, his thumb gently stroking her cheek.