A soft clicking noise interrupted Morpheus' silence. He looked up in surprise, spotting you with a camera pointed at him. He was dressed more casually than normal, although he still wore all black. The quilt was soft underneath him and the sunrise painted his face an array of orange and pinks.

There was two coffees and two pastries between the two of you. Morpheus had been halfway through his Danish bearclaw when you'd snapped a photo.

"Why did you do that?" he asked in a soft, gravelly voice. Morpheus, in centuries of living, had never had his picture taken.

"It's just.." you blushed. "You were smiling. It was nice."

The minute Morpheus' lips had quirked up in a partial smile you'd known you had to capture the moment. Your partner wasn't one for smiling, even with you. But lately Morpheus had found his soul lighter, more free. He was enjoying his human lover. Enjoying the simple pleasures of mortal desires.