Light.

Bright yellow sunlight streams through my half-opened curtains, bathing my face. I twist away, trying to shield my face from its intensity, but I give up at last. I am too lazy to actually get up and shut those crimson red shades.

Instead, I open my eyes to a new morning and take a deep breath. Instinctively, my eyes fall to the arm wrapped possessively around my waist, and then to the man the arm is attached to.

The warm light falls on his handsome face, illuminating his well cut features, drawing my attention to his sharp jawlines. I know every part of him. I know him inside out. People would say that those are the perks of dating your best friend, but who am I to complain? He knows me like the back of his hand, too.

His eyes are shut, but I know - from the countless times that I've melted into them - that they are a perfect crystal blue, the color of the sea under a glistening sun. His hair, now tangled up and messy, was a soft brown, and I would never get tired of running my hands through them. He had straight, perfect teeth, and an adorable, sexy smile. All of him was perfect. All of him was beautiful.

All of him was mine.

I try to stop myself - I don't want to disturb him - but I can't help it. I raise my palm to his face, feeling his stubble graze against my skin, tracing every contour of his face, imprinting the feel of his skin on mine to memory.

I wonder how I spent six years of my life not seeing how well we fit each other. Six years I spent being his best friend. Six years being oblivious to our chemistry, not knowing how our touches seemed to ignite the other.

Tristan grunts, and opens his eyes. And like every time, he steals my breath away.

'Happy birthday, beautiful.'

I giggle like a schoolgirl and snuggle deeper into his arms. 

'I love you.' I breathe, as I feel his arms cocooning me. 

'So, twenty three, huh?'

'Ugh.' I groan. 'Why, god, why?' I whine. 'Why did you do this to me?'

Tristan chuckles, and tilts my head back. He kisses me, slowly. When he pulls away, his eyes skim mine, and I melt all over, again.

'Don't you have to go to work?'

I reply by throwing the sheets over my head. I hear him laugh. 

God, I love that sound.

The sheets are peeled off me. 'It doesn't work that way, love. The sooner you are done, the sooner we get to your parents'.'

My parents decided to host a birthday party, against my protests and bribing my boyfriend - most probably with my mom's brownies. My parents lived in Oakland, where I was born and raised and the plan was to get off from work by noon and drive to my parents'. The trip was a boring five hour drive, but everything was wonderful with Tristan. He made everything fun.

I sigh. 'You are right. I should get going.'

I make a move to get out of bed, but Tristan grabs my wrist and pulls me to his chest. 

'Don't you want your birthday present?'

His lips press a kiss on my forehead. He kisses a trail over my earlobe to the hollow of my neck.

'Tristan!' I hiss. 'I'm gonna be late. We have plans, don't we?'

Tristan hums, his mouth never leaving my body. His hands glide over the width of my hips, grabbing my legs and throwing them over his shoulder. 

He pulls me closer and kisses me again, this time faster, rougher, more firmly.

'Let me wish you a happy birthday. My way.'

And he did.

Many, many times.

\*/*\*/