FicWad

His figure curled next to mine is firm and warm. I can almost feel his heart beat. It's, as always, rhythmic and comforting. I can feel the slight movement of his breathing, rising up and down steadily. And I feel at home, even though we're curled up on his messily made bed, watching some obscure movie that I can't remember the plot of. It feels right. The sound of his friends in the next room, the soft purr of his sleeping cat, the dark walls covered in posters. Everything is like it should have been years ago.

I still can't quite believe my luck and happiness. It's like a dream in a coma. You know it may last long, but, as always, it'll come to a painful end. I can only hope this is the real deal.

I got the urge to pinch myself, but refrained. If this was a dream, then I didn't want to do anything that might end it. So I stayed still, my eyes glue to the T.V., but not actually paying attention- to anything. Until I felt his eyes on me.

At first, I figured it was my imagination. I tend to be paranoid at times, and I figured this was one of those times. But the feeling never went away. So I summoned up some balls and turned to look at him.

His eyes met mine and her flushed, looked down and grinned. I smiled too, willing my own happy embarrassment away. I watched him too, and he was utterly aware of it, his blush deepening as his smile grew wider.

I turned away and faced the screen, my own goofy smile playing on my face. And I waited for him to touch me. Anything, small or provocative. Anything that brought me closer and gave me delicious shivers.

And when he did, I almost sighed.

It was simple and sweet. His hand brushed mine. I felt my pulse increase, and butterflies coiled in my abdomen. He hesitated, then grasped my hand, pulling it close to his body. I worked hard to keep my smile from getting loopy. My heart was soaring.

We sat there through the rest of the movie, and into the credits, to content to move. The fist song started up, playing a song I wasn't familiar with, but it sounded like a pop song from the eighties. I was right, because not to soon after is started he began singing with it. Softly at first, almost like he was afraid of getting caught.

I sat still, straining to hear him. But the softness didn't last long. I could hear him perfectly, and to add to the act, he began to sway, the dance. Until he was facing me, singing as loud as he could and performing with all his heart. There was even choreography.

All the while, I sat, laughing. I laughed so hard I couldn't breathe at one point, but he tamed it a bit. It was hilarious. And while I was enjoying myself God, I love this man... flitted a crossed my mind.

I pause in my laughing, musing over my thought. But there wasn't much time to continue because he leaned forward and caught my lips. I gasped slightly, surprised and pleased.

He sighed into my mouth and I could of died. After a moment, he pulled back and stared into my eyes, grinning. I could feel my heart against my ribs and the flush of my face.

"Hu-" He placed a finger to my lips and although it was callused, it was gentle and warm. I smiled below it. This was a moment I wished would stay forever.

"You're amazing," he said before placing a hand on the back of my head and lowering my down on the pillows, his lips against mine the whole way.

His weight on mine was comfortable, and his body warmed me. The kiss was never ending and gentle, and the hypnotic motion of his knuckles caressing my cheek lulled me. I relaxed, or more melted, into him, allowing my whole to wallow peacefully in a sea of him.

I came back to a less clouded plane. We were still connected, but I was more alert, but still peaceful. I slid my hands under the lose white shirt still covering his torso. My hands found his tattoo, a rather large one in the middle of his chest. My fingers found the lines and I began tracing it, memorizing each curve and angle.

He began to pull back, laughter rising in his throat. I slid one hand up to his shoulder, the other around to his back and pressed into his mouth, suppressing any laughter or talking that might have come.

He sighed and relaxed, pulling me, almost lazily, closer to him. And we stayed there, in one blissful moment, contempt with the world and where we stood.

He broke our kiss, his lips slightly bruised. He smiled at me, and kissed my fore head, nuzzled my neck. The he settled beside me, but with his arms still keeping me close.

"I'll never let you go," he said, looking up at me, his eyes clear and piercing. I smiled.

"What if I have to pee?" He snorted and shook his head, pulling me, if possible, closer.

"Then pee, but get your ass back here." I laughed softly and kissed his nose.

"I love you," I whispered, hoping not to push my boundary.

"Love you too," he said, then placed a sloppy kiss on my lips before shimmying down to rest his head on my chest, and closing his eyes for sleep. My cheeks tinged pink.
As he drifted to sleep, his grip around my waist loosened, but remained all the same. I placed my hands just under the space between his shoulder blades.

I studied his face, traced his nose and eyelashes. Memorized every shadow on his face and the way his hair shifted when he breathed.

Yes. I was in love.

And after I had thought of my younger sister, and how she was doing in collage for a full twenty minutes, I thought his name, and his faces, sleeping peacefully sprung into my mind's eyes. I opened my eyes and saw the exact copy, and smiled.

Definitely in love. My younger sister would be happy for me. And with that, I kissed his fore head, settled back into the pillows, my arms still around him, and drifted into a peaceful, warm sleep.