A/N: I've been having trouble with coming up with a good storyline. Sorry, so this is all I have for you now. It's completely based on the most amazing SC episode, so yeah, be aware of the spoilers. Um, I'm not so sure what to say, but I'm not really that proud of this one. But, since I haven't updated in a really long time, here you go.

Disclaimer: I don't own Shugo Chara!

Reviews appreciated.

"What a beautiful, beautiful day."
Morning

Sometimes, Ikuto hated the feel of the warm, morning light.

It reminded him of all those times Amu woke him up rather violently when they were so much younger after that damn light stirred her awake. She'd go on and on about he was supposed to sleep on the cold, hard floor (she'd never understand), her face flushed and a cute frown apparent.

But the rosette would eventually sigh and give up, making her way downstairs for a family breakfast after getting ready. He always strayed away from her bed when she wasn't there.

There was no point without the comfortable feel of another human being (especially her) beside him. And then he'd doze off, only to be woken up again by her with an armful of random eateries.

She'd kindly offer him food, worried, and constantly ask if he was fine. It annoyed him that she was worried because of him.

It annoyed him that she was bordering on pity (he hated that word), pity for him. And then his mouth would instinctively let nonsense (you're fat) pour out and she'd go back to the fiery, snappy little girl she was.

A boy would appear at her door, and she'd rush downstairs so fast, faster than she'd be in any charanari. While he was thrown into the dark, confined space of her closet, her prince would be allowed her bed.

That damn kiddy king was able to hear her voice without the edge of worry, without the edge of irritation or surprise. Her voice was always soft, always of a lovestruck girl with she was with him like it had been back then.

He could only close his eyes and pretend (scribble it out, it's not true) she wasn't bursting with joy from another boy's confession and that the chocolates he ate weren't originally for him (stop, please stop).

He hated it.

The little boy would finally leave, and he let himself out of her closet (she forgot all about him), while she spent the rest of the day dazed, giggling and blushing ever so often.

It killed him.

And then she'd finally fall asleep after kicking him out of bed (again), only to allow him to crawl back and the same thing happened.

She'd never understand that his papa's violin meant so much more to him, and he would never tell her that he took the key from her knight in shining armor.

She called him a child. She'd never understand that he was forced to grow up. And it was instinct (instinct, I tell you) that made him want to kiss her, that made him almost just kiss her. But he stopped.

Even when he wasn't in her bed, just resting his arms and head on it was enough to feel warmth. And he'd softly, sadly speak.

"So, Tadase likes you, huh."

And she had been so surprised, so flustered all over again and asked if he had someone he loved too.

Of course he did, didn't she know? Of course not, she was such a child. So small and so innocent. It was something he had only for a flashing moment.

And he told her with his eyes closed, not wanting to face the bewildered expression that contrasted so strongly with when he said he loved her.

It was silent. He nearly laughed out loud when she said he was lying. Everything was such a joke, now wasn't it?

And he really wanted to tell her right then and there that he really did love her, and he really, honestly wanted to hold her and kiss her.

But he stopped himself. She'd grow up sooner or later.

.

.

.

Blue eyes opened ever so slightly, the slight rise and fall of the warmth that radiated from the small body in his arms waking him. He smiled (only for her) when she woke up a few minutes after, her own drowsy, amber eyes looking up at him. He tightened his arms around her, and she grinned back, burying her face in his chest.

The morning light he had disliked so much was shunned by his own beautiful light, secured in his arms.

"Good morning, Amu."