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Imagine mornings with him. Warm rays dancing through the gaps in the trees, birds singing as the breeze sways gently outside, soft piano playing through the speakers of that old record player you insisted on buying years ago, dancing to the melody and feeling the freezing tile sting the bottom of your feet as you wait for your breakfast to cook.
You don't hear his soft footsteps, too lost in your own world of morning bliss as steam and sweetness rises from the pan next to you. You don't notice him stopping to lean against the doorway of the kitchen. You don't see the soft smile and kind eyes radiating love as he watches you, completely engrossed in the cracking sounds of piano keys.
You spin, soaking in the golden light streaming through the window as the pan starts to boil, and finally notice your husband standing there watching you, looking like you just hung the stars and the moon.
"I was starting to think you'd never notice me sweetie" Sylus remarks, ever one to tease.
"I guess I got used to your presence, huh?" You coo back, voice dripping with fondness that was always there, and has never faded even after all these lifetimes together.
And standing there, in that home you built together, you know you'll always be used to this, him, this warmth, this comfort, this love.