A bristle-y chin tickles Alfred's face. Alfred has a baby face: soft cheeks, full lips, large forehead. He looks especially precious when he sleeps, Ivan Braginsky decides. But the man in question squirms and tries to pull the covers back over his head.
"Nuh uh, Vanya... Too early..."
"It's time to wake up, sunflower." Ivan whispers. Slowly, lazily, Alfred opens his eyes. They're the color of the brightest, clearest blue sky... And they're lovely to wake up to.