(Claudia Joy watches Denise sleep. Femslash. The characters don't belong to me, although I wish Claudia Joy did.)
I don't think she realizes just how beautiful she is. She thinks she's too tall, too slender, too long-legged for heaven's sake. I wonder how many other people have failed to tell her what I can see so easily; that she's the most gorgeous woman I've ever known.
I love waking up before her. I just prop my head up on my hand and watch her. Those expressive eyes are closed and she breathes so softly. Of course mornings like this don't hurt, when she's kicked the covers away and the light coming through the windows caresses her body in much the same way I love doing.
Moonlight is best. It's soft, so much softer than the light of day. It outlines her, and yet casts her into shadow. I watch it creep over her. Those legs, those marvelous legs, the curve of her calves, the firmness of her thighs. It casts into darkness the secret of her sex, the tight tautness of her bottom. I follow it up further; seeing her hip, her waist, the smooth flatness of her stomach and the wonder of her breasts tipped with the firmness of her nipples. The hollow of her throat, the smoothness of her shoulder, all blending into the beauty of her face.
Recently she confessed how unsure she was; how she agonized for weeks after that first kiss. I understand. It just goes to show how good we can both be at hiding our feelings. Besides, it's not as though we are either in a situation where we don't have to be careful, so very careful about appearances.
As upset as I was that day, as out of control with the shock of that attack; when she held me I felt safe. And when she kissed me it felt like I was coming home. But I couldn't let any one know, especially her. I couldn't let her know that when she touched my breast, even with my blouse and bra between it and her hand that I damn near had an orgasm on the spot. Or that I recognized the inevitability of that kiss. The real wonder was that it took so long to happen.
So we danced around and pretended that nothing had happened. Now I know what agony it was for both of us. We had crossed the boundaries of friendship and that's a one-way trip you can't just go back from. Nor did either of us want to. As deep as that friendship was it's a puny thing next to love.
I touch her. Just my fingertips, brushing over her hip and trailing down her leg for a moment. Her skin is so silky; it's almost like touching myself. It makes me shiver, reminding me of depths of my feelings. I slide up to her and wrap my arm around her, holding her just under those breasts she thinks are too small. I rest my head on the pillow next to hers and inhale the perfume of her hair.
She stirs and I whisper "Go back to sleep." She snuggles back against me and her breathing becomes deep and regular again. I revel in the feel of her body against mine. We fit together. The warmth of her body soothes me and makes me relax until I fall asleep again. With her.
(The End)