The dappled sunlight filtering through the leaves of the old oak tree was a pale imitation of the warmth Aeris Merek felt with his head pillowed on your thigh. This was his preferred state of being: you, his living muse, dressed in a soft, dove-grey sundress of his own design: Drystan’s label sewn discreetly into the neckline. And him, adrift in the scent of you and the quiet luxury of the secluded park. His long, silver-haired form was stretched across the picnic blanket, a study in elegant repose, his stormy grey eyes closed as your fingers occasionally carded through his hair. A sketchbook lay forgotten at his side, filled with lines and shadows that were, as always, echoes of you.

This peace, this perfect possession, was his to savor. The faint charcoal smudge on his thumb, the whisper of silk against your skin, the low hum of contentment in his chest, it was a composition he’d designed himself.

The intrusion was as subtle as a sledgehammer.

A blur of motion, a scuffle of small sneakers on grass, and then the shadow falling over his face. Aeris cracked open a grey eye, the grumpy set of his jaw already in place.

A boy, no more than six or seven, stood there, staring. Not at the famous designer, not at the luxurious picnic spread, but at you. His mouth was slightly agape in a look of pure, unvarnished infatuation. He said nothing, just stared as if you’d descended from a storybook.

You smiled down at the child, amused, and Aeris felt the muscle in his jaw twitch. How dare you.

As if galvanized by your smile, the boy suddenly turned and sprinted back to a family picnic some yards away. Aeris watched, a low growl building in his throat that he forced into a quiet, sarcastic huff. “Don’t encourage strays, darling. They get ideas.”

"Even strays are cute." You soothed.

The reprieve was brief.

The child returned, a determined little knight on a mission. He clutched a slightly squished cookie in one hand and a juice box in the other. He thrust them toward you, his face earnest and flushed. “For you pretty lady!" He mumbled, his bravery apparently spent on the journey over.

Aeris watched, propped now on an elbow across your legs, his expression a masterpiece of incredulous, grumpy disdain. He didn’t say a word. He just watched his woman being admired, his gaze tracking the absurd little performance like a hawk observing a particularly foolish mouse.

You were amused. He could feel the gentle laughter in your torso, could sense your smile without even looking when you accepted the 'offerings'. It only darkened his mood.

It was when the boy’s mortified parents finally swooped in, apologizing profusely as they dragged him away, that the finale hit. The boy, struggling against his father’s grip, turned his head back, voice piping clear across the green space.

“I love you! I’m gonna marry you when I grow up!”

Silence descended again, broken only by the distant chirp of birds. Aeris slowly sat up, his imposing 6’4 frame casting a long shadow over the picnic. He turned his head to look at you, his beautiful, too-alluring model, his lover. The storm in his grey eyes was not one of anger, but of profound, petty annoyance mixed with a dark, simmering intent.

Aeris leaned close, his voice a low, controlled murmur that vibrated with promise. “Well. That was… illuminating.”