He's Finally Awake

His eyes fluttered open gently, like a hesitant sunrise breaking through the morning mist. They blinked continuously, adjusting to the soft light in the room.

I reached for his hand, our fingers interlocking, and a tender smile slowly graced his face.

I peered into those once-cold, now weary, blue eyes, and an involuntary tear traced its path down my cheek. A smile of relief tugged at my lips. He was okay. He woke up. My heart rejoiced.

His hand brushed away my tears, and I held onto it against my cheek, whispering, "Hi."

"Hello," he replied, his voice a low, velvety melody.

"How are you? Does anything hurt?" I asked with genuine concern.

"I'm not entirely sure if I'm okay, but I'm certainly not complaining. This is the best way to wake up," he teased with a smirk.

"I'm serious. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, but I'm starting to feel a little hurt that you don't believe me." He raised an arm to his chest, feigning injury.

I smiled gently. He was definitely okay.

"I think you're still dreaming. Wake up, sleepyhead!" I teased.

He chuckled softly. "I'm not dreaming. I'm right here."

Extending his hand, he said, "Help me up."

Carefully, I arranged the pillows to support his head and assisted him in sitting up.

We sat in silence for a while, enjoying each other's company.

Finally, I broke the silence. "You know, it's kind of funny how I suddenly reconnected with my childhood friend, someone I hadn't seen for so long, and all it took was a couple of conversations for me to decide to marry him."

He smiled, his eyes filled with warmth. "I know, right? It's like something out of a fairytale."

He reached out and took my hand, his touch reassuring. "I have no intention of letting you go. Ever."

Returning his smile, I leaned in to kiss him.