You're My Everything (Septiplier)

"You will always be the best part of my day."

-Mark's POV-

I glanced at the time on my phone.

4:25pm.

It was time to wake him up from our nap. The living room television was on, but like always, it was more for background sounds to help us...or more importantly, him...to fall asleep.

Our usual naptime positions.

Sometimes we would shout these four words as we ran down the stairs, two at a time. Other days they would be whispered into his ear as he leaned heavily on his left arm, trying his best to keep his eyes opened as he stared at the editing screen.

Our naps will always be special. No matter what day of the week, it is the only time we set aside each day to spend completely with each other. From around 2:30pm to about 4:30pm. At times to 5:00pm, depending on how long it took to wake him up.

Jack was always hard to wake up in general. It was never like he was trying to be difficult or grumpy, but with his sleeping pattern all over the place, if he was woken too fast he would be startled, confused, or in some instances that broke my heart into pieces, his blue eyes would snap open, looking terrified.

In the morning in our bed, if I was to wake up before him, I would kiss his cheek, and slowly slide out of the bed, trying to be as quiet as possible so that I would not disturb him. If he needed to wake up for a specific time, I would rub his back or shoulders until he yawned, stretched and wiggled out of the bed and head to the restroom, not looking at me at all until he had washed his hands. I would sit and wait for my morning kisses, and then we would start our day.

But the afternoon naps were what I loved the most.

I was laying on the couch as usual today, on my back and my head resting comfortably on the arm rest. Jack, as usual, was curled up in my arms, his head placed in the middle of my chest, his soft snores dancing with the sounds of my heart beats.

His pajama clad legs and bare feet in between my opened legs.

The pale and slender arms on either side of my torso. The right arm and hand being supported by the couch, and the left arm, hanging delicately off the side. Every so often if I needed to move a little to change the channel, or check my phone, his left arm would sway lightly with my movement, and then become still again.

I would tilt my head down, and kissed the top of his head.

"Bright Eyes," I whispered as softly as I dared, "time to wake up."

He didn't stir at all, his snores still steadily floating right above my soul.

I lifted my arms and slowly touched his narrow shoulders, and using my fingers softly rubbed in small circles. He grunted lightly, and then back to snores.

From his shoulders I would begin to roll my fingers down to his shoulder blades and small of his back, and finally the snores would become gentle sighs and he would nuzzle his small chin and button nose into my chest.

"Babe," I would say slightly louder.

At this point his bottom half would begin to shift around, trying to find new places to find warmth inside the fencing of my legs. He would find a better position, and then would take a fluttery breath as he began to sink back into slumber.

Finally, I would wrap him into my arms, and lift up gently to a sitting position. I would cradle his limp head with my hand to make sure that when we were upright his face and neck would be protected from falling backwards into pain and darkness.

Now, his arms were draped over my arms, hanging lazily, and he would instinctively twist his legs and bend his knees to make sure that he wasn't being bent over too far like a pretzel. He was making muttering noises now. Too softly for me to hear them clearly. I kissed the side of his forehead, and then, adjusting his face slightly up so that I could see his closed eyes and half opened, pink stained lips. I kissed his cheek and rubbed his back with my hands.

His mouth would open and close a few times, and his astonishing eyes, at last, began to open behind long brown eye lashes. I would watch them intently, first just a blue haze of fog and dream filled visions, with pupils so large that it would take your breath away.

Then, slowly, with the rubs on the back and the small kisses on the cheeks and lips, the ocean of his gaze would come to the surface of consciousness. The waves of realization of what I was doing and where he was would crash into the shore of his eyelids until finally, his face would unslacken and his eyes would look into mine, completely connecting back to me.

"And there he is," I would whisper.

That was the moment I lived for than anything else. More than kisses, more than making love, and more than breathing, it seemed.

It was...trust. He trusted me with every part of himself.

Legs, arms, heart, toes...

Every single hair on his body and every puff of air from his lungs were given to me to hold while he left the atmosphere. So that his spirit could soar through the clouds and touch every single drop of stardust before he was needed once more.

To be able to sleep so soundly that the movements around you didn't matter. He was able to know that I would be there while he slumbered, and protect him from anything that could hurt him in the waking world.

To have the love of my life return to me, every single day.  To feel his body become energized again after helping him to rest. To experience his compassionate eyes slowly focus until he recognized who was holding him up. To relish in the sweet smell of his first notions of feeling safe and secure.

"Good merning, Merk," he would say every time, no matter what time of the day it actually was, his accent so heavy that it sent shivers down my spine.

"Good morning, sunshine," I would answer in return. "Time to get up."

He would nod his head sleepily, and sit up in my lap, his lips finding mine for a soft kiss. Then we would sit there and breath in and out together, with our fingers intertwined, and once he was ready, we would venture off together, to continue the rest of the day renewed.