I am unsure why modern men are so reluctant to admit that they enjoy snuggling. When they scoff at it or claim to despise it, they're lying, of course, trying to conform to some bullshit code of machismo. Regardless of one's lifespan, there are few pleasures in it like a lazy morning under comfy blankets with someone you love. Granuaile's soft smile and the early beams of sunlight on her freckled cheeks, all healed now, were so beautiful that I suspected that my day had already been made. In fact, odds were that it wouldn't get any better, so I enjoyed the view while I could and felt grateful to be alive. Moments like that never grow old.