golden hour: your favorite time of day, but why?
warnings: allusions to self-deprecation
word count: < 500
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golden hour was by far your favorite time of day.
it wasn't quite day, but it wasn't quite night. there was just something about it that brought an odd sense of peace to you.
the streets were lined with cars and pedestrians, just wanting to leave their jobs and get home after a long day.
the setting sun cast a soft glow into the apartment, its yellow light filling up the room. you sat by the window, watching the sky begin to turn shades of pink. it was calming, watching the world begin to relax.
across the room, spencer picked his head up from the book in his hands. smiling, he admired you from afar, taking in the content on your face. to spencer, you truly were breathtaking. the way the light shined on you, your skin and hair glowing. the soft smile on your face was like no other, and spencer wondered how he got so lucky to have found someone so perfect.
you felt his eyes on you. turning around, you caught spencer's gaze, laughing softly. "what?" you asked, a light blush creeping over your face.
"nothing, my love," he smiled, shaking his head. "you just look so gorgeous."
as spencer turned his attention back to his book, your eyes began to fill with tears as you looked back out the window. the soft smile on your face, it became one masking true frustration.
golden hour.
the only time you truly felt beautiful.
and oh, how you wished it wasn't.