I lay awake with him beside me, the only sound to be heard was my own
breathing. I gave a sigh and put my hand on Spike's shoulder. His skin
was cold as ice, but warmed to my touch. I know that soon, to me, and to
him, our touches will be familiar, we'll know it as we've known others, and
enjoy much them more than we've enjoyed any other touches.
He shifted slightly, and I smiled at him. His sleeping form was tucked comfortably under the sheets, and I let my fingertips dance over the contours of his body, each touch cold, then warm, changing as suddenly as my fingers changed positions. I glanced toward the window where the sun was disappearing behind some clouds, and two birds soared across the span of pink and purple sky. "Almost sunset," I whispered, anticipating the night before us.
Spike moaned and turned, finally resting his head on my stomach. I resisted the urge to kiss his head, resisted the urge to take his hand, resisted the urge to wake him and enjoy his delightful company I yearned secretly to get lost in. And I hang on to whims of my fantasies, those created in my dreams, where he and I are perfect sculptured models of true love... One never before experienced by any living being, one more eternal than eternal life itself.
Our relationship was something I preferred to find myself enraptured in, something we both obviously wanted and needed more than anything... Something that I'll never, not for a split second, regret. I realise this, now as I watch him take deep, unnecessary breaths while he sleeps soundly. I know that for now, I am his guardian, instead of him mine.
I'm responsible for his well-being, and it feels good. I came to the conclusion then, that his kiss is delectable, delicious, and every time he touches me, the feeling in my stomach... that's love... That's the love I dream about. And I can close my eyes and hear the words he said, even the words he will say... and I can have that feeling.
Our love isn't one that makes me weak in the knees, it makes me stronger. It completes me, it completes him. Instead of standing on my own, I'm standing with him, and we are no longer him and me, we are us. It doesn't make my heart palpitate, it steadies me. It doesn't make me dazed, it helps me finally see. It makes us that much stronger, that much better... that much more complete. It makes us a different entity. It makes us love, itself.
Ths is what I'll always have, what I'll always want, what I'll always need...
...especially before bedtime.
He shifted slightly, and I smiled at him. His sleeping form was tucked comfortably under the sheets, and I let my fingertips dance over the contours of his body, each touch cold, then warm, changing as suddenly as my fingers changed positions. I glanced toward the window where the sun was disappearing behind some clouds, and two birds soared across the span of pink and purple sky. "Almost sunset," I whispered, anticipating the night before us.
Spike moaned and turned, finally resting his head on my stomach. I resisted the urge to kiss his head, resisted the urge to take his hand, resisted the urge to wake him and enjoy his delightful company I yearned secretly to get lost in. And I hang on to whims of my fantasies, those created in my dreams, where he and I are perfect sculptured models of true love... One never before experienced by any living being, one more eternal than eternal life itself.
Our relationship was something I preferred to find myself enraptured in, something we both obviously wanted and needed more than anything... Something that I'll never, not for a split second, regret. I realise this, now as I watch him take deep, unnecessary breaths while he sleeps soundly. I know that for now, I am his guardian, instead of him mine.
I'm responsible for his well-being, and it feels good. I came to the conclusion then, that his kiss is delectable, delicious, and every time he touches me, the feeling in my stomach... that's love... That's the love I dream about. And I can close my eyes and hear the words he said, even the words he will say... and I can have that feeling.
Our love isn't one that makes me weak in the knees, it makes me stronger. It completes me, it completes him. Instead of standing on my own, I'm standing with him, and we are no longer him and me, we are us. It doesn't make my heart palpitate, it steadies me. It doesn't make me dazed, it helps me finally see. It makes us that much stronger, that much better... that much more complete. It makes us a different entity. It makes us love, itself.
Ths is what I'll always have, what I'll always want, what I'll always need...
...especially before bedtime.
