Sometimes, your other half is the one that you refuse entry to your heart, even if they're already there.
She felt him, his heartbeat.
The rhythmic beating lulling her slowly back to sleep.
He held her,
feeling rather than seeing her blue eyes watching him.
She snuggled closer as he adored every inch of her.
He'd never seen anything more beautiful than Gillian Foster,
no make-up,
wearing one of his t-shirts,
and in his arms.
She gazed at him,
commiting every part of him to memory.
To her,
nothing was as breath taking as Cal Lightman's churning hazel eyes.
The depths of which were her heaven.
They laid there,
lost in each other.
For each was the other's Fallen Angel.