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There's a gentle light coming in through the curtains at the Evergreens, easy like it's early morning. And it is early morning. Austin sits up, scrubs at the sleep lingering in his eyes. Glancing over, he sees that Jane is still asleep. A look at the grandfather clock in the corner tells him she'll be asleep for a couple more hours. She prefers to get up at nine, and it's just past 7.
He climbs out of bed, careful not to creak the floorboards. Billy’s a development that he isn't used to just yet. He pauses, but the cry he thinks he heard was just the wind. Jane mercifully stays asleep while he closes the curtains as far as they'll go, hoping it'll give her a few extra minutes of sleep before the sun inevitably begins bothering her rest.
It's chilly in the Evergreens, but the cause of his cold is probably the hardwood flooring sapping all of the warmth out of his bare feet. As much as he tip-toes, the hallway groans as he makes his way to the bathroom. His reflection greets him when the light comes on. One of Austin’s new favorite colors is that light yellow haze of the lightbulb. It reminds him of Jane’s hair and Billy’s laugh.
Washing his hands, he peers in the mirror. The same dark brown eyes he's always had gaze back. He's got a bit of tiredness around them, no doubt a result of Billy’s teething. His thick mane of hair is in messy waves, and dark, patchy stubble dapples his jaw. He’s still recognizable, if not a bit disheveled, but it's Jane who likes it, so he lets it grow.
He was always told that his beard would come in more fully the older he got, but he's in his mid-twenties now and it looks just as desperate as it did when he was 17. Just a little more there now. Austin forgoes shaving, not that there's even much to shave. With no plans for today, it can be put off for another early morning.
Out in the main room, he draws the curtains on the biggest window. The curtains peel back, and he squints at the sudden sunlight blinding him. He adjusts, though, and watches the outside like he does most mornings.
Sunrises in Amherst will never get old. The way the grass glitters, dew washing the murkiness of yesterday off of the blades. It's as if they live in a painting, or in one of Emily’s poems. A stirring is evident when he actually pays attention, Billy rising from sleep just as he does most mornings. Austin contemplates asking Jane if she'd like to go on a weekend trip, just the three of them. Sure, it’d be nice, but he’d miss these mornings far too much.
He's there for barely five minutes before the silence is broken by a faint squeak from upstairs. Maybe a floorboard, maybe the bed. A few beats pass, and the hinges of the bedroom door protest as it opens. Jane’s yawning as she lumbers down the stairs, looking a little out of it from being awake so early. Austin loves this Jane, the unfiltered one, the one only he gets to see.
Jane’s blonde hair glows like a halo as she graces him with her presence. The nightgown she has on swallows her form, and he can only see the barest lines of her shoulders and knees creasing the fabric. She stops next to him, blinks her clouded blue eyes up at him.
She looks tired. Pillow lines mark her cheek, and her undereyes are dark, still puffy with sleep. Her hair is an absolute mess, wildly wavy, sticking up on one side to form a nest like fixture. The faintest remnants of sleep still ring throughout her bones.
Austin pulls her in, gentle and easy, and kisses her sweet. She's gorgeous, every inch of her. She's beautiful. Her life has been hard, unfairly so, but her smile is still as bright as the day Billy was born, and her expressions remain as piercing as a dagger.
Jane doesn't say anything, just nudges her way against his side to watch the morning alongside him. He drapes an arm over her shoulders, tucks her neatly against him and relaxes when her head comes to rest on his chest. She snakes her arm around his waist.
He closes his eyes, soaking in the warmth of the sun and her light hands pressed to his side. When she moves to get a better view of the sun, he can feel the metal of her wedding band. Just that makes his chest feel tight, and he toys with his own out of habit.
They’re so close, so perfectly in love and content that they don't need to say "I love you" anymore, because it's such a given. But he tells her anyway, and the smile she gives him pulls up one of his own.