7am. I watched as Taehyung stirred in his sleep, casually draping his arms over me as I laid next to him, feeling the heat radiating off his body. I eyed his figure in its most vulnerable state, those beautiful long lashes, that adorable mole on his nose, his steady breath escaping his lips in a rhythmic pace, he looked.. almost like a real angel.
As I admired and took my time to appreciate his sole presence before me, I came to realise how awfully lucky I was. This innocent and kind man who loved puppies like he loved children, who was more than happy to share the little things he came across on his way to meet me, who was selfless and generous to showering me with all his love, was mine. 
I took in all his features and I couldn't think of anything other than how fortunate I really am to be alive at the same time as he is. I could walk into a gallery and the only art I would see is him. He is art himself. So breathtaking yet so fragile. I told myself if I were to hurt him in any way, I would never be able to forgive myself. Not one bit. 

"You're staring." 
I snapped out of it. "You're awake." 
"And so are you," he replied, "what are you thinking about?"
"You." He finally took a peek, "and how adorable you look right now."
He smiled at me and I couldn't help but grin alittle myself. He brought me closer to his chest and whispered into my ear, "I love you, you know that right?"
"I do, and I love you too." I mumbled into his chest.
Rig