You stand beside his bed and try to keep your breathing as shallow and soft as possible, for every little bit of air floating in and out of your lungs is a hundred times more loud as it should be at this time of night.
After all, you do not want to wake him under any circumstances; it'd be a little hard to explain your presence. So you settle with slowly brushing over the sheets, your touch so light you might be imagining it. A soft sigh escapes your lips, since, just like yesterday, this won't be enough. There is this nagging, desperate feeling in your chest, pulling you closer, closer, closer to him, and with each day it's becoming harder to resist. The first few days after you two met it was just glances, when there was no reason to look at him at all, but after some weeks those turned to small touches, and then a little bolder ones, and they led you here, into his chambers, in the middle of the night, watching.
It might sound creepy, but it feels even more so.
Still you just can't help it. The first time, it wasn't planned. You just needed to ask him something (it was important, you know that, but what exactly it was you can't recall), when you walked in, he was just lying there only a metre or two away, looking so peaceful and serene it would have been a sin to wake him.
You didn't, but you watched him until the break of dawn.
Back here, you finally give in and take the final step to his bed and gingerly sit down by his side, careful not to touch him. If you did, you couldn't guarantee for anything and you know it. You marvel at the way the moonlight throws shadows on his beautiful features and how long, dark lashes fan out over flawless skin; how the strands of his hair look against the fabric of the pillow and how his lips are slightly parted and moist.
You cannot imagine anything more perfect than this moment, until you reach out, as if it was the very first time in your life and travel a shaking fingertip across his cheek. Over the sound of your racing heart you hear how he draws a breath and then you feel him leaning into your touch.
Your heart stops for a second, then continues beating with doubled speed when you allow your curious fingers to trace his jawline, his nose, his lips.
When you have memorised every feature, you weave a hand through his hair, feeling the soft strands glide through your fingers like silk.
Leaning down a little so you can feel his breath against your skin, you wonder if he ever notices the nightly visits, the touches, the affectionate words. Does he think they are dreams? Or does he maybe dream it's someone else sitting beside him? The thought stings, like it always does. For someone who hasn't got the right to claim anything from the one he loves, you are unbelievably jealous.
You press a soft kiss on his forehead before you pull back a little breath in his smell and just look at him a little longer (its always a little longer, until the sun rises and you've got no choice but to leave)
Suddenly, there is a sound, or at least you think there is and you leap from the bed. Standing there you can feel your heart beating at the back of your throat and you pray to every god and goddess for him not to wake up. At least one of them seems to listen, but the magic of the moment is broken. The universe is filled with other people than the two of you again and with that the peace is gone.
You look at him for the last time of this night and smile before you turn around.
'Good night and sweet dreams, my love', you whisper. You'll see him again tomorrow, so there's no reason to feel sad (you still do).
And then, without thinking, you add, 'I honestly love you.'
It's the first time you admitted it openly and again, you smile; then you leave without looking at the sleeping man another time, whose lips are now curled into a smile similar to yours.
Sorry for the slight…lack of anything happening in the story, I blame it on my permanent lack of sleep combined with reading far too much slash fiction in the last few days (;
Anyway, I'd like to thank AllyEmrys (and apologize another time), because she's clearly been too good to me. I just hope you read this (:
oh, and the title is by The Smiths with whom I'm absolutely and completely in love with at the moment 3