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Sakusa Kiyoomi loved that small window of time every morning between waking up and getting up from bed.
He liked the silence and the coldness of the room, the first rays of morning slipping through the lace curtains, blue and orange hues mixing together.
He liked the peace and quiet. The faint sounds of birds chirping outside.
But most importantly, he loved the sight of Atsumu sleeping beside him, his bleached hair against the white pillows, eyes closed, lips softly parted open.
Sakusa loved turning on his side, pale fingers playing with his boyfriend’s messy locks, memorizing every little detail about him.
He loved Atsumu Miya.
Sakusa didn’t know why exactly.
He just knew the man in front of him gave him a reason to breathe.
The man in front of him was the only person who stayed. The only one around.
Atsumu was loud, yes, he was loud, energetic, and annoyingly cocky but he knew how and when to shut up. He knew when to turn down the lights.
And that was one of the many things Sakusa adored about him.
It was weird to him, to adore someone so much and he never understood that concept until now and God, he was addicted.
“Morning, Shnookums,” Atsumu’s morning voice sent butterflies in Sakusa’s stomach. That rough, low timbre. It always made Sakusa’s heart race just a little bit faster.
“Morning, dumbass,” Sakusa chuckled quietly, adoration swimming behind his dark eyes.
There was no one like him.
A comfortable silence fell between them and that was perfect.
Atsumu was the dust upon the sill—he was everywhere.
Atsumu was the repeating melody in your head, the same melody that would annoy you in the middle of an exam or in the middle of an important meeting.
Atsumu’s presence was inescapable.
Sakusa could be doing the most mundane thing and his thoughts would slip back to him and it always slipped back to him.
Atsumu Miya was chaos.
He was disorder, he was a deadly storm in the middle of the sea.
He was everything Sakusa trained himself to avoid and protect himself from but there he was, beneath the sheets with him and only him.
“When did my Omi-Omi turn into a softie?” Atsumu pulled his boyfriend closer, burying his face in the crook of his neck, breathing in his clean, heavenly scent.
“Do you not want me to dote on you or what?” Sakusa attempted to push the setter away but Atsumu’s hold on him only tightened.
The bleached blond said something but it was muffled.
“I understood virtually none of your words,”
Reluctantly pulling away just a little bit, Atsumu blushed as he repeated his words.
“I want ya’ to dote on me and stuff,” there was a pause.
“And I-I thank all my stars that I get to wake up to ya' every day,” Atsumu quietly but quickly mumbled against Sakusa’s collar bones.
Atsumu felt Sakusa’s fingers gingerly massage his scalp, softly playing with his hair.
It was like touching the sun’s rays and as Sakusa kissed the crown of his head—It’s like kissing sunrise, he thought.
“You can thank your stars all you want but I’ll always be the lucky one,”