She waits for him, always. If he takes too long to come to dinner, caught up in a book, she sets the table and takes a seat, waiting. If he takes too long getting ready for
bed, she sits at the edge, waiting. If he takes too long lingering in his dreams, she watches him, always silently staring in wonder, waiting. Waiting, forever anticipating,
just as she does now. He slips into bed and she smiles at him, a fond smile he's only ever witnessed, and he wraps his arms around her as they settle against the
pillows, the dim lights a cushion to her tired eyes. She rests her head against him and sighs in exhaustion as she falls into her haven, her sanctuary, her love. He falls
asleep quickly, wrapped around her, and she quickly follows him, her body warm as she sinks into the pillows. When she wakes up, she thinks, she'll eagerly await the
moment he, too, wakes, and, for now, as she sinks into the deepest slumber of her life, a slumber where monsters are burned by his presence, she lets his breathing lull
her away. If ever he takes too long to follow her into the oblivion of death, she thinks, she'll sit on a cloud, looking out at the world with a smile on her face, waiting.
Please R&R. ;)