Pivot
Sam woke, startled and disoriented, until the familiar sights and sounds of her bedroom registered. Familiar, except for one decidedly atypical mass of warmth she was currently curled around. Oh, she knew him well enough. It was just that him here wasn't supposed to happen.
Last night filtered from Sam's memory, and it wasn't the kind of night that she imagined would lead to waking at his side. Nope, nothing fun nor exciting happened. No one got naked.
Sam sighed, wondering if she should be feeling relief instead of her current wave of disappointment.
Yesterday he drove her home from the base. Both of them exhausted and in pain– the emotional not the physical kind. The type of pain that no prescription refill could cure, and wasn't that the problem? The doctors couldn't just stitch her up, pop her pills, and make this all better. No, this was the kind of soul-ripping devastation that only one thing could mend. Him.
He forced her to eat soup. He watched TV next to her on the couch. Then she went to bed.
Sam didn't know that he decided to sleep on the couch, staying just in case she needed him. She had no idea, that is, until she was caught in the midst of a nightmare. Only, the nightmare was actual memories and that made it so much worse. The images twisted together, replaying over and over until her mind broke and her heart suffered far more than any person should be made to endure.
Sam must have screamed in the night, that's all she can figure, because suddenly he was there. His arms and his warmth holding her while the tears came. Sam rarely cried, but he seemed not to notice or care. He touched her, caressed her, soothed her. He concealed her from the world. Finally, when she had nothing left inside, he lay with her, holding her tight and together.
She was awake now. Early morning light began to slip into her room. The birds outside were already awake and far too cheerful.
Her head was resting on his chest as it rose and fell steadily. Her arm lay over his bellybutton. Her leg was tossed across his, as if she owned him and was making that statement to all that might happen to wander into her bedroom.
Instinct told Sam to back away, and she did, at least a little. She moved her leg off him and her head onto her own pillow. But she couldn't pull away completely. Wasn't that what this was all about? Didn't that say more about her life than anything else that defined her relationship with this man?
Sam blinked a few times and in that moment, she decided.
There were no big fireworks. There was no mad, mind-blowing, lovemaking session. Nothing monumental had immediately preceded the decision. Therefore, it wasn't how she always imagined this would happen. To the world, little of consequence had come to pass. But in her head, and more importantly, inside her heart, everything shifted. Her entire life suddenly shifted.
Sam slid her leg back over him, and rested her head on his chest again. Her arm across his middle squeezed ever so slightly, then relaxed.
She'd tell him when he woke.