Our story

She heard him toss and turn in their bed restlessly, the occasional yawn escaping from under the covers. The only thing she could see of him was the dark brown mess that was his hair. Giving her own quiet sigh she went back to work. It crept around to 1:30 in the morning and sleep was starting to take over her.
"Mmmm!"
She looked back up from her paper to see the groggy face of her fiancé staring at her. She gave him her usual sweet smile- the one that had sold him into loving her. Not to mention her long, beautiful black hair, the way she always seemed to convince him into dancing with her, how her lips felt against his, the cute face she made when he bit her in the neck, and… ahem. He loved everything about her.
"Can't sleep, love?" She asked in her young voice. It always rang in his ears in the most pleasant way, like she was singing to him.
"I can't sleep unless you're in the bed with me," he mumbled. She didn't know if he was being serious or just trying to be cute. Or both. She laughed at him. "When did this start? You used to sleep just fine without me," she hummed as she finished the last part of her work for the night. The rest she'd pick back up tomorrow. "I dunno," he slurred, and grabbed a pillow to hold. "I know I didn't sleep at all last weekend when you went to your parents'." She flashed him another little smile. "She didn't understand why you couldn't come."
"I couldn't get off from work."
"I know. I told her that. You know how she is. At least she likes
you."
"Yeah, yeah. I'm glad,” he muttered, fiddling with is pillow impatiently. “ Can you come to bed now?"
She put away her work and looked at him from across the room. He did look pretty pathetic- pathetically adorable, rather. His hair stood out in all angles and partially covered his sleep-glazed eyes. He sat hunched, exhausted from the day’s work, cuddling his pillow to his stomach. Her eyes looked on in admiration when she noticed he was shirtless, showing his slightly formed pecks, arms, and shoulders. She knew just how strong they could really be.
"Oh, okay. I guess I'll come to bed," she teased, still smiling, still looking.
He gave her his own little broken smile. One that he hated, but grown to use and slightly accept. She put away her work in the right pile and turned off the little lamp she was using to see. He watched curiously as she she slipped off her shirt and bra, and climbed into the bed next to him. She gave him gentle kisses before she cuddled against him while he lay on his back. "When did you start doing that?" he asked, wrapping his arms around her, holding her as close as he could.
"Do what?"
"The shirt thing." He paused. "You wanna...?"
She shook her head against his chest. "Too late. Too hot."
"Mmmm. You're right."
His fingers ran up and down her arm, face, and hair like a breeze before holding her in place again. Giving her a last kiss on the top of her head, he buried his nose in her silk hair. She was asleep, cuddled deep in his arms, face buried in his chest, her mind consumed in a dream. He smiled against her hair.
“I love you, chérie.”