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You turn your head to see Peter next to you, his brown hair all rumpled from sleep. He's still in the depths of slumber and you sigh as you lay in bed thinking. You lean forward and reach onto the desk beside the bed and pull out a picture you always carry with you. It's of you and Peter, when you went to an art exhibit for school one year. You both had to write a ridiculous paper on a art piece of your choosing and how it related to the human experience. You can't even remember what class it was for. But you and Peter had to decided to go and have fun despite the inevitability of boredom. In the picture, Peter stood in front of a strange pea green art piece, rising above him like a sea monster. His arms were wrapped around you, and his head was bowed down toward yours, whispering something in your ear that was making you laugh. Some bystanders had taken the picture for you, and you had posed properly in others. But the person holding the camera took a picture right when you and Peter weren't posing, resulting in the photo now in your hand. You don't know why you love it so much. Perhaps because it was you and Peter together, and it looked like nothing could or would ever change. It seemed perfect.
The bed shifts beside you and you glance over to see Peter peering at you through half-closed lids. "What're you looking at?" he asks groggily.
"This photograph of us," you smile at him. Giving you a curious look, he scoots over to you side, pulling you into his arms, and looks up at the photo in your hands.
"Oh yeah," he laughs. "I remember that. I thought that art piece was gonna swallow me whole."
You giggle at the memory and gaze at the picture with fondness. You feel Peter's eyes on you. "What?" you ask.
"Nothing," he chuckles.
"No, really. What?" you raise your eyebrows.
Peter's still grinning at you. "It's just, you're beautiful."
You feel the heat rise to your face as you blush. "Oh." You return your focus to the picture, embarrassed. You reach out a finger and trace Peter's arms around you. You can still feel Peter watching you. "You know, that was when I knew I loved you," you say quietly.
Peter pulls the photo from your hands and reaches over you to place it back on the desk. Looking down at you, he says,"Me too."
You grin, knowing that photograph will only be all the more special now.
Peter kisses you lightly. "Baby, I love you."
"I love you too, Peter." He pulls you into a tight hug and you lay there, enjoying the comfort of his arms around you.