May your joys be as bright as the morning...
For the first time in ages, Severus awoke slowly, late in the morning. A man naturally given to strict habits and an early riser through years of life in a school, there was a moment of disorientation as he looked up at bed curtains not his own and saw the angle of light peeking in through them. There was a time when he would have had wand out and curtains open in an instinctive jerk, but this morning something felt too utterly right for paranoia. Snape found himself calm and merely a little confused.
Then something brushed against his cheek. Hair? Red hair. Red hair that curled itself around his finger and oh sweet flowers of Elysium Nadezhda.
Stretching, Snape found himself a bit sore...and smiled. The little tendril around his finger led to a coiling nest in which the pale oval of his wife's face lay. It was, to him, a sight that had filled and defined him and would do so all his days.
Then something brushed against his cheek. Hair? Red hair. Red hair that curled itself around his finger and oh sweet flowers of Elysium Nadezhda.
Stretching, Snape found himself a bit sore...and smiled. The little tendril around his finger led to a coiling nest in which the pale oval of his wife's face lay. It was, to him, a sight that had filled and defined him and would do so all his days.