Him
I watch her closely as she sleeps and try to comprehend as she sleeps, try to comprehend how I got so lucky. She is mine and I hers. She loves me and I am so grateful, she is so kind, intelligent, honest, pretty- especially right now-here with me her guard down. I feel like I'm intruding. I shouldn't be looking-watching this moment it's too precious, even if we don't acknowledge our feelings or voice them.
Her
I am so comfortable with him, so much so that I trust him with my life. While he was babbling on I drifted of f to sleep. I trust him to tuck me in even though I consider it a childish act I know he will carry me to bed. I will probably find myself in his bed in the morning, not because I slept with him, but because he carried me in there. Just as I thought he would, and he took the couch. He knows I will let him carry me, move me. He knows and I know though we don't dare speak aloud, don't dare tell.