Morning
It’s quiet in her room. The soft, slow breaths a lullaby to her ears and a comfort to her heart. She can feel every rise and every fall of her company’s chest, the latter perched securely atop her body.
She keeps her one hand running over jet black hair, smoothing them and soothing her. She briefly wonders, were the other awake, if she could coax a purr. The thought makes her heart pound wildly – it deliciously hurts. Her free hand reflexively clutches onto her lover’s body a bit more tightly, her brain telling her, screaming at her, that it would help keep her together.
She backtracks at that. She supposes she is her girlfriend now, what with everything that’s transpired. Then her mind runs a mile farther and thinks on how the other would react if she heard her say that particular word. Perhaps she would blush, perhaps she would hide her face, perhaps she would smack her arm to hide her shyness. She wouldn’t mind what would happen, for as long as the other confirms and says it back.
And there goes her heart again. And now both her arms instinctively wrap around the other’s body. She knows she, and much less her heart, won’t explode and fall apart from that. But she’s feeling… odd… strange… weir- ‘vulnerable’ (ah, yes, that’s the word) right now. This vulnerability apparently makes her brain flip and make her do crazy things – such as disrupt her soothing ministrations and end this precious moment with her.
It’s quiet in her room. The soft, slow breaths turn into a gentle, melodic yawn. It’s, not surprisingly, also a lullaby to her ears and a comfort to her heart. She can feel her company’s body rise and disentangle from hers. It forms a crack in her heart, which she feels with such impact.
But then Sage smiles and greets her, mending everything back.