The sleeping man (Hakuouki modern AU - Hijikata)

Cosy

Timid sunrays filtered through heavy curtains, a gentle wake-up call that failed at pulling Sarah's cushion from his slumber. Toshizō was dead to the world, as expected. A month of lack of sleep, stress and insane pressure would do that to a man. His arm circled her, warm and safe; the hum of his skin upon hers felt so good that she almost cried. As days passed, Sarah had suffered from his absence, but even more so from the notion of letting go. Now that she lay, sprawled over him, the extend of her foolishness hit her square in the chest.

A smile crept up her lips as she settled happily. Toshizō's slow breaths lulled her back to sleep, as did the gentle 'thud thud' of his heart. Such a good heart. A heart that belonged to her. Barely conscious, she allowed her mind to quieten, stress forgotten as the fear of losing him slowly tickled out of her thoughts.

Eventually, though, Sarah emerged from her sleep and shifted. His arm tightened around her waist, as if he feared to let go. Yet, he still slept soundly. She paused, watching the relaxed lines of his mouth, and those silky strands that framed his face. He usually woke up early, and came back late; to see him slumber was a privilege, and she enjoyed watching the dim light play hide and seek with his sculpted jaw and pronounced cheekbones.

So sinfully beautiful.

But those circles under his eyes told her he should stay abed for a week.

Sarah extracted herself from under his arm as sneakily as a cat would, and padded out of the room to prepare breakfast. On occasion, Toshizō liked to indulge in pastries. Her waffle maker created beautiful rose patterns that always coaxed the poet out. Silently, Sarah started working on the batter while she heated water for a well-deserved morning tea.

Her movements were slower than usual, legs aching when she twisted aside to crack some eggs. Despite his exhaustion, Toshizō had worn her out fair and square before they collapsed, tangled like a set of vines, on her bed. His lovemaking, she understood, aimed at showing the depth of his devotion. Sarah blushed; she would have to learn that particular language, observe those little things that she had mistaken for politeness because she did not believe herself lovable enough.

She accepted her responsibility for the blunder, and swore to herself she would coax answers out of him rather than assuming. To think she'd almost lost him for it...

The third set of waffles were sizzling when a set of warm arms circled her waist. Sarah squeaked, startled by his silent arrival.

"Mmm, 's just me," came a rumble, rough from sleep.

Closing her eyes, she tilted her head aside to allow him to nuzzle her neck. For a blissful moment, they remained thus, Toshizō almost swaying on his feet, nose buried under wild curls. Until the waffle machine dinged. Sarah reluctantly untangled herself from the hug, kissing a cheek that sported pillow marks. Adorable. A set of dark eyes, still hazy, greeted her and she smiled.

"Tea is ready," she announced, diving behind the counter to unlock the waffle machine and extract two crispy pieces.

Toshizō settled languidly over a bar stool, pouring himself a steaming cup and diving into the brew. She'd never seen him so slow, so completely unaware of his surroundings. Hijikata-san, the Deputy Director and Oni Sensei on the mats, was a demanding, unyielding man that commanded respect. To see him so relaxed, so utterly unconcerned by the world warmed her chest; it meant he felt safe, and at home.

She wanted to dunk him in a warm bath, and cover him with kisses. Unfortunately, her bathroom only sported a shower; the bane of her short stay in Japan. Speaking of baths...

"So, do you think we can make that trip to the onsen in October ?"

Toshizō's head perked, his eyes sharper as she settled a waffle in front of him, and fruit preserves from her mum – almost sugar free. Her man, she'd found, did not have much of a sweet tooth, but give him daikon radish and he'd scavenge the place.