Domestication
The first rays of sunlight had begun to creep through the window of a loft, which as it turns out, currently housed two very peculiar individuals. Beneath the dust that danced in the golden illumination, Arthur had just begun to wake, and he sat up atop the mattress, tangled in the sheets while he stretched out his long arms. He was still a bit tired, work had been strenuous lately and he never slept enough as it was, but he rose from bed without a second thought, pausing only to tuck in the woman still slumbering there. For a moment he admired her sleeping form, the soft strands of blonde hair cascading down her back, and his lips pressed to her temple, tucking the linens over her shoulder.
The married life was not what Arthur had anticipated, and as he made his way to the kitchen, clad only in a navy pair of boxer briefs, he contemplated how exactly he had managed to make such a commitment. Two cups of coffee ground into the filter, pot filled up to the eight cup line, he watched as the clear liquid filtered into the machine. With the caffeinated liquid beginning to brew there was the matter of breakfast, and oh yes, how he had become married. Six eggs into the frying pan, a generous amount of bacon strips placed into the other, he rubbed at his tired eyes and allowed a yawn to filter from his lungs.
Perion was not like most women Arthur had met, and it was a trait that had inspired him to eventually contact a jeweler and invest an unspeakable amount of money into crisply cut diamond that shined with the luminosity and brilliance most women only dreamed of wearing on their finger. She was quirky, and sarcastic, and as far as matches went, Arthur was fairly certain he had met his in his wife; a lady with uncommon sophistication who could and would win in a fist fight. The eggs had begun to bubble and Arthur flipped them over lazily, free hand running through the mess of dark waves atop his head. A few more minutes and breakfast would be served.
In the time between bread entering the toaster and bread leaving the toaster as toast, the point man had managed to light a cigarette, and he held it between his thin lips in a sort of balancing act while he prepared the breakfast plates. Coffee was poured, a tray was loaded, and he made his way back towards the bed with a level of determined concentration that he scarcely required outside of work. Placing the meal down on the nightstand table, Arthur’s slender body returned to Perion’s side and he leaned over to bite at her ear.
“Wake up.” He cooed, his voice gravely and low.
