In my world they live in a beautiful messy house somwhere in Europe overlooking a valley, dress up real fancy (read: Dashing outfits) and do pretty little gay crimes together. Just one rule - everything unconventional and fun.
You lay tucked in Din’s arms, your back to his chest. He is warm, and the window is open, and hope filters through the parted curtains on a gentle breeze. With the storm passed, the sky is bright, the sun dazzling. The future unwinds like a tangled chain, swinging free and boundless from your grasp. You can have anything, be anything—so long as you are with him.
From the window sill, a bird chirps. The sound swoops up and down like the sudden rise and fall of a carpet of rolling hills.
“What was that?” Din’s sleep-filled voice tickles the hair at the nape of your neck.
You smile, bending your face closer to his bicep. “A nighthawk.”
