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Grace

I've never been a morning person.

I never got a good night of sleep growing up. I would just toss and turn, worrying about how I would manage to upset my parents the next day. I began associating sleep with worry, so now when I sleep, I worry about anything under the sun. And when I wake up, I'm just exhausted because my brain's been going all night.

But not this morning.

I think I actually slept last night. No worrying, no sex dreams, just pure, uninterrupted sleep. It probably helps that I was just genuinely exhausted from having such a full day. And from the sex.

It wasn't even vigorous sex or anything like that. It was just emotionally overwhelming, in a good way though.

This morning, I actually woke up before Harry. I've quickly learned that he's an early riser. He likes going on his morning runs to go get us all coffee. It was a little alarming the first time I woke up without him next to me. It was in Rome and he went out on his run without telling me first. Not that he has to tell me or anything.

I didn't say anything because that's his time alone and he needs it. I know I'm being way too clingy with him and he probably likes having time away from me. I'm just glad I woke up first this morning.

He's so peaceful as he sleeps. His cheek is squished against the pillow. His nose and mouth will twitch every so often, sometimes even his eyebrows will furrow. I wonder what he dreams about. I mean, I dream about him. He's been in my dreams since Dublin.

His eyelids will flutter every once in a while, and sometimes he'll make a little noise from the back of his throat.

Eye, lips, nose. That's the order I would put his facial features. I love all three with a burning passion, but if I had to rank them that's the order. Those captivating green eyes, those yummy pink lips, and his perfect nose.

I don't appreciate his nose enough. I love the tip of it. Sometimes when he speaks I catch myself watching his nose. He scrunches it a lot, mostly because he sniffles a lot. But he's just very expressive with his nose. I didn't think a nose could be so involved in a conversation.

I think I love his nose so much because he likes rubbing it against mine in little eskimo kisses. Those always make me laugh. They're just so sweet and innocent. The feeling of his nose against mine is heaven.

I take this opportunity to really study his face in its natural form. The only thing I'm missing are those beautiful green eyes, but he needs his rest.

If I could touch his skin I would. I want to commit every line of his face to my memory. He's a masterpiece. He's otherworldly. God's favorite creation.

If we didn't have sex last night I would still have a hard time believing he's real. Then again, I was so tired, maybe I just imagined the whole thing. I have been having a lot of sex dreams lately.

He's still shirtless from last night though. My eyes lower, taking in the tattoos at the top of his shoulder. He has so many. I want to know what all of them mean, if anything. 17Black, the birds, the three screws. The giant ship. All of them.

I already made fun of him for having a 'g' and an 'a' tattooed on each shoulder. We were in Barcelona when I noticed them, but I didn't actually tease him for it until yesterday. I told him that it was a little creepy he had my initials tattooed onto him. He just laughed and told me they were for his mom and his sister.

Doesn't make it any less creepier that my name is Grace Amelia and he technically already has a tattoo for it.

He also has his butterfly tattoo, my favorite I might add, and he calls me butterfly. It's like he's made tributes to me before we even met.

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