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She wakes a little too early today; the sun just barely breaking through the hazy blanket of darkness outside. It's only a quarter to six and she finds herself wide-awake in the silence that only soft breathing disturbs. Masayuki is still asleep, warm and close.
She closes her eyes, tries to drift off again, imagines a princess swept off her feet, a prince, charming and sweet—just like the roles they used to play long ago—but sleep doesn't come.
She's restless and even now, she can't—doesn't want to stay still. Being still is kept for solemn events and tidings, but this isn't one of them. She's had her share of life's many cycles and while she can still move, she will.
She can't move as fast or as suave as she used to but, that's okay because she's had her turn and this is just the natural course of life. Twisting to her side, she eases herself up on her elbows and peeks outside through the curtains where they break and watches the sky in its hues of orange and fading gray. It's a familiar sight she's seen many times in her life but hadn't stopped to appreciate in a while. Between life's busy schedules and obligations, it had been easy to lose sight of the beauty of everyday.
That's something, she reflects, that comes with time. In her youth, she was always quick. She could run faster than most of her peers but in that hasty dash to the finish line, she had missed the scenery along the way; had missed opportunities and had been oblivious to what was right in front of her. She hadn't stopped to think it through or to look and as she slipped into the hustle of increasing responsibilities, she had never had the chance to slow down and actually take it all in.
Today there's a light cover of fresh snow outside and a couple of cars drive by below but it's mostly quiet on this too-early weekday morning.
For once there isn't a schedule to get up for and there aren't any appointments. The nest is empty and it's a rare day of rest that adulthood hadn't allowed in a while.
She watches the cars drive by for a few more minutes, but grows tired of it quickly. It's too cold to get up, but she can't sleep anymore. She may have slept in and even later in her youth but too many early mornings have eased her out of those habits.
Her right knee aches a little and her bones know the seasons. She buries herself deeper under the blankets, a little closer to the warmth without really disturbing him. He just grunts a little as her toes can still tickle his feet, but he doesn't wake.
Masayuki makes a noise and she turns her attention back to him, rolls over to face him. He's still as he sleeps and she watches for a while. She's done this more times than she can count but each time she looks at his sleeping face, it never, never gets old.
She knows his face has changed. Hers has as well; time doesn't stop for anyone and it's only natural that nothing stays forever the same. But, she thinks, he's still as amazing as the moment she first saw him performing up on that stage that day, many years ago.
Right now, the ridges on his face are smoothed out in sleep. She leans over, slowly, cautiously, and balanced, and plants a small kiss on his cheek; soft and warm under her lips, she has never grown tired of the embraces, the gentle kisses, the affection.
"Yu?" Voice heavy with sleep and age, but still very much him. "You're awake already?" He turns a little slow, but surely towards her and she leans forward into the crook of his neck, slipping her arm under his, body warm and familiar.
"Yu? You okay?" He murmurs, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer.
She tangles her still-thin, long legs with his, nods against his neck, breathing in the familiar smell of his body wash, mixed with a scent that's only him; a smell that hasn't changed in all the years, months, minutes they've been together.
"I love you." She mumbles low into his pajama shirt.
Masayuki yawns. "Hmm? Yeah—me too."
He doesn't need to say anything more because gone are the days of misunderstandings and child’s play. At this point in their lives, there's that silent understanding that only time can create.
Opportunities came and went and while she had missed her chance a few times, there was one she hadn't let slip through her fingers, and there wasn't a day that went by that she had any regret.