She can feel it. A little bit of tenderness streaming up her skin, from the place his pale hand rested. One glance, but he's sleeping. His face is relaxed and untouched by time. Sam Evans looked almost the same like he did when he was 18. A dimple on his left cheek is deeper and a small scar under his chin are only signs that time had passed. Same soft skin and ruffly hair still made him stand out in the crowd and make her wonder what she did to make him be there, beside her still.
She knew what his answer to this was. A small spell of her smile, a touch on the cheek and kiss. Always with a dash of something new, though.
Shifting slightly, the girl wrapped her arm around his waist line, leaning in to plant a kiss on that specail spot right below his ear. Inked skin was still swollen and she assumed it stung, but he never complained. It wa special reason, and he needed to have it done, he said. And a bit of soreness didn't bother him.
Tilting her head at the memory, she moved back slightly, placing her cheek on the cold part of his pillow, staring into his closed lids. He was still sleeping, already used to the fact his gal couldn't spend one night calm. Tossing and turning was a normal part of her routine. A bit of shifting and a kiss wouldn't wake him up, not anymore. Not after 2 years of living together.
Almost as if he read her mind, blonde shuffled. Mercedes gasped slightly, holding her breath. Oh shit. Did she wake him?
''Sam?'' her voice was hoarse and her gaze mild. Was he still asleep? Sighing slightly, he reached out his arm, searching for her. A second later, he placed it on her hip, buckling her closer slightly. ''I'm here.'' She whispered again, gliding her arm under his and pulling her head down to his shoulder. Pillow just wasn't comfy enough...
From this angle, and with small help of moonlight coming trough the window, she could see the mark he gained some years ago, on first night of their life together. In this house. A broad smile tugged onto the corners of her lips, allowing a happy smile to appear. Memories... She'll never forget his attempt to open that bottle of beer with the fork, causing it to pop a bit /too/ far, leave a mark in his flesh. It was still matter of laugh between them and their friends. Except Sam, of course. He'd still miff whenever it got brought up.
Mercedes didn't recall falling asleep, when she woke up next morning. Sheets were crumbled underneath them, Sam's hand still around her. She didn't want to move yet... Just five more minutes. That's it.
„Morning, Cedes."
Wincing slightly, she looked up, quirking a brow slightly. How did he always manage to catch her off guard? It wasn't fair... ''What're you looking at, hm?
''You.''
Huffing, she turned her face toward her shoulder, ignoring him. He was lucky he was so warm, or she's totally get up... Maybe. Well, probably not.
''Shush.''