Making Mornings Meaningful
Why Jack likes his mornings...
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Burgundy bruised fingertips tightened, warming themselves on the ceramic white hot rim of the Mug he was holding. This was new. Normally, at 4:15, Jack O'Neill would have either been in the shower, or still trying to claim A few extra minutes sleep. And reflected in the dark of his eyes was an almost creamy pink sky, mixed like strawberries among a patch of swirling misshapen clouds. Harmonising birds atmospherically tinted the land before him, like a golden canary singing for no one. No one Accept him. It was going to rain. He knew that. The clouds weren't far behind, probably grey and angry at Being woken so early. And he looked upon a lake. A lake he knew well. Glazed in the copper of the sun, it danced regally upon the surface, and shone into the dark Murky edges that surrounded the view. He'd been like that. Before. Before, he would have welcoming 15 extra minutes in bed. But when you get old, sleeplessness becomes less meaningful. Or so they say... But it doesn't stop that childish urge he seems to get now, when the sky changes. To see it change is rare, and often people don't get up to see the sun rise, other than people who are looking for a passion that time will not lay down for.
"Red sky at night, Shepard's delight," He mumbled.
His back tightened slightly, at the feel of two arms running slowly and all too welcomingly Across that length of his. A pointed chin came to rest against the welcoming rough of his unshaved chin, and the pale lips lingering next to him, finished his sentence.
"Red sky in the morning," The figure made it's way around to sit on the porch next to him and his coffee, which now perched between them.
"Shepard's warning." He smiled at her, still a little sleepy. "Couldn't sleep either?"
"No. I got cold." A mischievous grin followed a yawn and she rubbed her hair in waking and settled with are arms around her. "You know it's strange." Looking out onto the porch, almost wondering, but less aware. "We've seen everything." She pointed to the star that were left as they still tried to claim ownership to the skies. "We've probably been 'there',"
"But nothing beats a sunset?" He knew what was on her mind, as it stood in his."
"Exactly. There's nothing like it." With that, she stood, but not before catching her fingers at the back of his nape, and playing with the hair for a second. "I'm gonna take a shower."
He didn't follow; instead he nodded, returning his gaze to the world outside and around him.
And only then did it occur to him.
He hadn't really woken for the sunrise. Sure, it had a beauty that couldn't be written or talked of. And he loved that, but... He had been watching her sleep for hours before that. Watching her nose twitch like a little girl who had just been put in front of a plate of mushy peas. He watched the way she could look to so young and innocence, and yet retain that dear perfection which made her so elegantly feminine, and womanly.
He did originally have a reason to wake up in the mornings, But after all, She was his Sunset, and soon to be his Sunrise. And soon, he would have to give a farewell to the old one, and banish it to an eternal place where it shall never be thought of again, only in dreams. Because after all of it, She had made his mornings meaningful. And therefore, by the power of love, and hope, and joy be given a new place. Not just in his heart, but in the stars, The moon, The dusk, And the dawn...
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Story Notes: Author: atheniandream/Jawbreakerchick/Paisleychick, my alter egos :)
Email: atheniandream@aol.com
Email: atheniandream@aol.com
DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognisable characters, settings, etc, are the property of their respective owners. Any original characters and plots are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended. ... [ read more ]