Aeons, he has such a baby face when he sleeps.

You inaudibly sigh, as to not wake your boyfriend, and lean against the fluffy bedding to just look at him. His usually perfectly kept hair is mussed, his limbs lazily tangled in the sheets, even his silk pajamas have a few buttons undone— you’ve noticed he’s a slightly messy sleeper. But you suppose you can tolerate the occasional limb in your face if it means it’s Aventurine.

And he looks so peaceful, too. It looks absolutely uncharacteristic compared to when you first met him, as heartbreaking as the fact was. His lips were barely parted, his chest slowly rising and falling with each soft breath leaving him. And now you quietly admire him, not making a sound because you know he’s a light sleeper.

It takes absolutely everything in you to not just shower him with kisses on the spot.

…

…….

………..

Yeah fuck it, he’s getting kisses.