She adorns herself in the blankets, wrapped in comfort. Her breath slips out slow and steady, her chest rising invisibly beneath the comforter. I stand there, goosebumps covering my body, chilled, and I'm torn.
I want to dive beneath the covers, exploring the depths of the bed until we're wrapped tightly next to one another, steam riding from our collective warmth. To do so, however, would place my chilled flesh against hers, the shock yanking her from her reverie. And that, I could not abide.
I slide into the chair and watch her. Her auburn tresses splay across the pillow, disappearing into the ruffles of the comforter. Her lips, flush with rest, pout ever so slightly more as she slowly draws each languid breath. Her eyes, gently pursed in repose, dance with each dreamy twitch of hidden visions.
With the greatest of care, she tilts in her downy crown of pillows, pushing her hand and arm from beneath her cozy cocoon. She squeaks and bends, her lashes peeling open ever so slightly, a supple smile sliding across her face. It feels like sunrise as her eyes open, every millimeter illuminating my soul.
“Good morning,” I whisper as our gaze meets. She just smiles.
Without realizing it, I've crawled beside her, pulling myself close, and like that, we're entwined.
“Sometimes I think I have kind of a high sex drive,” she admits to the bedroom.
“Oh really?” I say, mocking her. She tries to raise an eyebrow and scowl at me; her face is contrived and comical, yet cute in the effort. She huffs as I laugh at her, pursing her lips into a perfectly adorable pout. “I might have noticed,” I say as slide closer and move to kiss her.