"There is only one happiness in this life, to love and be loved," - George Sand.
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I FEEL MYSELF SHUFFLE AWAKE, weighed down by the heaviness of his protecting arm over me, pleading me to stay.
As careful as I can, I turn to face him. His loving features meeting me. He is beautiful and this serenity during his sleep does him well. Better than the eternal frown that seem to haunt his features whenever he is awake.
I know the frown is because of me. He cares too much, but I don't have the heart to tell him to stop. Because I love that he cares. In fact I crave his attention. Without it I would not be here, and because of it I almost wouldn't be.
Slowly, I raise my hand to wipe my finger over his brow as it starts to furrow. Smoothing out the length of its strong characteristic curve, I see it soften slightly in reverie. Trailing my finger down his cheek, I feel him twitch a little. So I tug his chin, while leaning closer, angling his head. Then just as our lips meet, my hand falls to his heart.
I let it stay there. To feel the steady heartbeat under my fingertips as the sweet kiss deepens. Even after everything there is still not a shadow of doubt in his heart and that makes all of this worth it.
It makes what I did worth it.
"Morning," his husky voice mutters when we reluctantly pull away for air, and his blue green orbs are again revealed to the world - to me.
Attentively, he tilts his head, as he senses my somber mood, removing it from the pillow, and his tousled morning hair glows in morning sun. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," I whisper with a small smile, before burying my head in the crook of his neck, "Absolutely nothing," I breath sincerely, inhaling his intoxicating scent. He rounds his arms around me protectively, tugging me on top of him in the process.
"I love you, you know that right?" His chest rumbles underneath me, and I nod, feeling the reassurance of his steady heartbeat that does not jump - not even once.
"I know," I nuzzle further into him as his hands affectionately run over my back.
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I squirm, trying to push him away. A giggle escapes me as he playfully bites into my neck with a growl and I kick backwards out at him, my hands occupied with rinsing the dishes.
When his fingers dig into my waist, I let out a squeal turning around, water and soap spraying around the room before I press my palms firmly against his clothed chest. Fleetingly, I see my hands leave soak marks in their wake, but then his lips catch mine and I'm left blind to our surroundings.
