Breathe

(Her point of view...)

She was an early riser and sometimes…just sometimes…she would wake while the morning was still dark and still…she would wake while the nighttime stars had yet to give way to the dawning sun…and she would listen to him breathe.

She would wake with her head nestled against his chest…sturdy and broad, rough-hewn and hirsute and always so very warm and welcoming; with his arm curved… gently and protectively and chivalrously… around her; with those soft sighs and whispers, so random and so endearing, that occasionally crossed over from his dreaming world into the safe haven of their bed punctuating the darkness and making her smile. She would wake and just listen and remember, even on those rare days when they had been at odds over something silly, all of the reasons why she loved him.

She loved the way his eyes crinkled up when he laughed…and she loved the way touchdowns and comic books and Jimi Hendrix solos still brought him so much child-like joy. She loved the way his hands, so large and seemingly ungainly, always touched her with courtly and sweetly wounding tenderness.

She loved the way he knew when she needed him to listen and when she needed him to make her laugh; she loved the way that she knew when he needed a shoulder to lean and when he needed to be teased out of his shadows and back into the sunshine.

She loved the way he would sometimes literally sweep her off her feet and into his arms and kiss her…ever so passionately…for no reason other than he felt the urge to. She loved the way she sometimes caught him looking at her…as if she were the most precious thing in all of God’s creation and he was blessed to have her in his life.

And she loved the way their bodies flowed together…with rhythmic grace and un-abandoned ardor in natural turn… when they were making love; the way their carnal symphony…sweet asides and bawdy, humid endearments, tender, whispered encouragements and growled, exuberant lovers’ exclamations…filled their bed…their home…their universe…with music that was theirs and theirs alone.

And on those days that she woke before he did…before the sun did…she loved to listen. She loved to listen to the sighs and whispers…to the steady, soothing beat of his mighty heart beating in his mighty chest…she loved to listen to him breathe.

(His point of view: Dream)

* * * * *

My other corners of the interweb:
Pop Culture: Neverending Rainbow
Eclectic Sites and Images of Interest: StumbleUpon
Comic Books: Suspending Disbelief