Zander was a rather observant man, or at least he was when it came to you. It was hard not to be, you were captivating in ways other people could only hope to be.

Your habits were what amused him most; the quiet 'tsk' you made when you were annoyed, the spark in your eyes at his subpar cooking attempts.

He also noticed when you tugged your sleeves down far too often and allowed his hands only on certain parts on your body like you were scared he might discover some dark secret hidden beneath your clothes.

Another habit of yours was waking up before him to get dressed and usually this worked in your favor. Zander wasn't a light sleeper but, he'd been restless that night and the lack of warmth that followed your careful exit from bed woke him.

Eyes adjusting to the soft hues of sunlight that danced across your body, Zander regarded the multitude of scars that littered your skin with a quiet understanding. Circling his hands around your waist, he drew you back to bed, ghosting feather soft kisses against the map of scars on your back, "You don't have to explain and I won't ask. Just let me love you, angel. That's the least I can do."