Between Certifiable and Bliss

Chapter 2

The lazy drowsiness. That type of sated, relaxed state where one simply relished in the pleasant fact of existence. The solid, insistent knowledge of the flesh and bone home of the body, keeping one intact and whole, brought a soothing comfort.

The fact acknowledged by one's self that you had a self, that you did endure corporeally, and felt the structure of the bed beneath you, as the mind lagged just a beat behind, sparking slowly to life, still content to linger in the cloud-like realm of subconscious activity. The oddly aware state of the in-between: to identify that your consciousness had been one way, but was now in the midst of transition to another state entirely.

A strangeness, this universal human experience of the fleeting caress of the dream state, progressing to the recognition of emerging from said state and onto the starkness of reality.

Brilliant, that ability of the mind to pinpoint that you had dreamed, but now, would leave that plane and enter one you knew to be the truth.

Maybe in that ephemeral space you regretted leaving behind the dream world and dread the re-entry.

Or if you are Draco, you remembered all the happiness that awaited you.

A warm, perfectly soft bed supported his prone form as Draco blinked awake. The silk sheets had slid down to his torso, his legs clad in silk pajama bottoms. Wrapped in smooth luxury, he stretched languorously, shedding the last vestiges of a good night's sleep and opening his eyes wide to welcome the stream of golden sunlight through the curtains. A glorious morning greeted him.

Perfect for the festivities to occur later. In honour of him, of course.

Draco rolled onto his side to find the space next to him empty. His hand reached out and groped along the other side of the bed anyway, for the body that should be there.

He frowned petulantly. She'd promised him a very exciting morning in bed. It was his birthday after all and she always did spoil him on his birthday. Spoiled him every day, truthfully.

Happiness reigned supreme in his life.

He sighed and laid back against his pillow, feeling blissfully well-rested. Draco supposed letting him have a lie-in was a gift in and of itself.

Because not only had Draco expected at least her presence, surely the third occupant of the household would have wanted to disrupt his sleep by now?

Stray noises filtered down the hall from the room below. Joyful sounds of domesticity. The shifting of pans. The cracking of eggs. The sizzling of bacon. The excited babble of a child. The scrape of a chair against the floor.

Ah, so they meant to surprise him then; perhaps with breakfast in bed.

Draco roused himself completely and threw on a t-shirt over his bare chest. He crept quietly down the hall and down the stairs, carefully approaching the doorway of the spacious kitchen. An eat-in kitchen for this home. One where they both cooked and ate together most meals. No need for the stuffy propriety of formal dining rooms or long tables that created physical and figurative distance between families.

More sounds as he moved closer. Two voices. His favourite two voices.

The first, sweet and melodic, attempted and failed to be stern. Wonderful a mother though she may be, their son had her quite wrapped around his little finger. Draco could privately admit he was much the same.

Snippets of normalcy. Stability.

The other voice, excited and rapid, chattered away about all his various plans and schemes. Just like Draco, he wanted the constant and full attention of the woman trying to cook their breakfast. Surely no task was as important as what he had to tell her?