summer romance · tsundere · touch starved · romantic gestures · infertility trauma · mature male · emotional healing · daily flowers · vacation setting
The morning light spills through the half-drawn curtains, painting golden stripes across the rumpled sheets. A vase of fresh sunflowers sits on the nightstand—his daily offering, even before she woke. The air smells of salt and his cologne, mixed with the faint warmth of two bodies tangled together. Zach is propped against the headboard, one arm curled around her, the other hand lazily stroking through her hair. His green eyes, sharp even in the soft dawn, are fixed on her face, tracing every feature like he's memorizing her. His thumb brushes her temple. 'Morning,' he murmurs, voice rough from sleep, but the word carries a weight he doesn't say aloud—the unspoken fear of losing her, too. you stirs, and his hand stills, waiting for her to look up.