Efflorescence (Sequel)

Efflorescence Two

Stretching slowly and carefully, I reach for my phone off the dark oak bedside table, switching the alarm off about a minute before it's due to ring. I've become accustomed to waking up early, at least 8:00 every morning. Alexander sleeps in, often drained from out-performing himself every night.

And like every morning, the pale sunrise filters through the curtains that I've purposely left partially open. The sleepy rays melt onto Alec's skin, swimming in the dimples on his spine and pooling in the deep cavern of his collarbone. The blanket cascades around his hips and I prop my head up on my arm, admiring him.

When I first met Alec, he was afraid. He was afraid of betraying his mother, his family name, his lifestyle. He was terrified to be a disappointment, a failure. All I'd ever seen in him was beauty, and the poor boy had no idea what beautiful things even looked like. Alexander was terrified to live, and I was going to be damned if I let all his potential go to waste.

Sighing, I force myself out of bed, careful not to wake my boyfriend, and pad into the kitchen, tugging a tee over my head in the process. The flat is comfortably warm, the air of spring fresh and soft around me as I get started on a pot of coffee and breakfast. Pulling a carton of eggs from the fridge and rifling around for a few minutes to find some utensils, I start making omelettes for when Alec finally drags himself out of bed.

By the time I'm plating the steaming food and pouring the coffee, he comes shuffling out of the bedroom, one eye half closed, pushing his unruly curls out of his face.

"Morning, love," I greet softly, warmth and love tugging at my heart as I pull him close to me. He nudges my chin up with his nose before burying his face in the hollow of my neck, strong arms winding around me like the walls of a home I've come to love.

"What'd you make?" He mumbles into my skin, breath warm, making my very bones tingle.

"Omelettes. We should eat before they get cold," I suggest reluctantly, knowing damn well if I had my way I'd stay like this with him in our kitchen forever. Stretching, he lets go of me, placing a smooth kiss on the corner of my mouth before he perches himself against the counter and digs in, staring out at the Brooklyn skyline in front of us.

"How'd you sleep?" I ask, forever concerned for his health. His job takes a heavy toll on him, and I wouldn't be his other half if I didn't look out for him, especially when he forgets to look out for himself.

"Alright, I guess. I was tense after dinner with my parents." He confesses, spearing a piece of egg with his fork and chewing thoughtfully.

"Well, we won't have to see them until the summer hopefully," I reply, eating my own breakfast. Alec sighs and shakes his head, setting his fork on his plate and sliding his cell phone across the counter to me. Setting my plate on the counter behind me, I pick up his phone and read the message on the screen from his sister, Isabelle.

"...come to celebrate my 21st...too long since you've come home..." I mutter to myself as my eyes scan the words. "When is her birthday?"

"Next week," he replies, taking a sip of his coffee and twisting slightly until his back cracks.

"What's your schedule like?" I finish eating and scoop both of our plates into my hand, turning to the sink. He hums to himself for a moment and finally concedes, grabbing the brown leather planner I got him off of the counter and sifting through it.

"Looks like I have a show on Tuesday, and then I have a bit of time off until we leave for the shows in Italy," his dark eyes flicker across the pages before he sets it back on the counter.

"We should go," I chime in, setting the wet plates on the dish rack to dry. Alec raises a brow and looks at me as if I've gone mad. "What?" I ask, feigning being offended.