mornings ( marshall's pov )

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(Y/n) - Your name

(H/c) - Hair Color

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My eyes fluttered open, and the first thing I saw was the clock in my face that said 9:26 a.m. Sunday morning. The autumn sun, shining through the thin curtains, which never really served any purpose because they didn't block out any sun, but maybe it was for the better. My morning breath warmed the pillow and wallowed in bed.

Downstairs, I could hear the return of familiar sound: (Y/n) making breakfast. Banging wooden cupboards, rattling containers of tin and glass, shuffling and sorting a collection of metal pots and iron pans. A culinary orchestra tuning up, clattering vigorously towards the finale, a cake pan drumrolling along the floor, hitting the wall with an intense crash. Something impressive was being created, probably some pancakes, because pancakes were special, and most likely (Y/n) would probably want to cook something special.
It was our second anniversary.

I walked barefoot to the edge of the steps and stood listening, working my toes into the plush wall-to-wall carpet, as I tried to decide whether I was ready to join my wife. (Y/n) was in the kitchen, oblivious to my hesitation. She was humming something melancholic and familiar. I went downstairs.I hovered in the doorway, watching my wife. Her messy bed head (H/c) was pulled up, the hank of the ponytail swinging cheerfully as a jump rope or as a playground swing, and she was sucking distractedly on a burnt fingertip, humming around it. She hummed to herself because she was an unrivaled botcher of lyrics ( although I can't say I'm any better ). (Y/n) peered at the pancake sizzling in the pan and licked something off her hand. She looked triumphant, wifely. If I took her in my arms, she would smell sweet like fresh berries and powdered sugar.When she spied me lurking there in my grubby boxers and t-shirt, she leaned against the kitchen counter to kiss me and said,
"Good morning to you, sleepyhead."

I remember the first time I woke up next to her in bed, seeing her beautiful sleepy face, I instantly knew; "I am going to marry this girl."

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