THE GENTLE SWISH of waves against the shore quietly woke Alion from his sleep. Blinking through the light, he smiled at his wife; Azana was still asleep, hair muffled across her pillow.
He leaned over, propped up on his left arm, and kissed her softly on the temple. These were the best kinds of morning. Ever since they had left Jerom, this little piece of privacy hidden in the shoreline of the sea-cities was a needed respite.
A mild frown plucked at Alion’s forehead, the faintest twinge of despair vibrating like strings in his gut. Featherweight tufts of melancholy settled on his shoulders.
This getaway, this private week after their wedding, was not only a celebration, but a gentle rebuke; there would be no going back to Jerom when it was over.
The tufts increased in density and he almost laid back down again, his skull and body feeling suddenly void and empty and listless.
But Azana stirred and blinked drowsily up at him.
“Morning.” Smiling, she kissed him on the chin, and reassessing her aim, kissed him on the lips.
At the sight and touch of her, Alion felt little bursts of sunshine dispel some of the heavy tufts. As long as he remembered who it had all been for, any regrets could only be fleeting as dew.
Written: 5 Nov 2015
Words: 219 wds