As I wake after the night of being fucked until I was exhausted. I wake expecting him to be gone, but he isn't, I feel his hair brushed up on my chest, His head lying in between my breasts. He is fast asleep. His hand resting on my thigh, I thought he would be gone. I gently place my fingers through his hair, his eyes open. He has a beautiful eye colour, I admire them. Green like a Cheshire Cat, his eyes are staring at mine, blankly but in a loving way. He wraps his hand around my waist, hugging me almost like a bear. His eyes shut, but he whispers " I'm sorry, if you want me to go i'll go " I say back " please stay ".
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As the sun becomes more and more potent through my glazed curtains, his body rises. He stretches exposing the back muscles, they make me weak. Such a thing to look at. He tells me he needs to go somewhere, my response " where? ", he replies back " Italy " a sudden urge comes over me to ask to joins him, as I ask subtly with anxiety, he nods his head. My body fills itself with a feeling of happiness. He comes over to me and hugs me, his chin resting on my head. I hope This man takes care of me, I really hope he does. Just as this thought crosses my mind his mouth opens to say " I will take care of you, I would never let anything happen to you. You, you are special. "
He walks over to the velvet chair across from my bed to pick up his clothes, his white dress shirt that I ripped off from him the previous night, and black slacks. He puts on the shirt to discover it has huge rips through-out it. I apologise even though I know he likes it. I take him to the kitchen, he walks to my fridge, grabs eggs and a pan from where they're hanging. Im shocked, is the man who has ruined my insides for the past 2 nights really going to make me breakfast? or am I delusional? it's honestly hard to tell. Everything is hard at the moment, its hard to concentrate on anything else due to his shirt not being on his body, its all I can genuinely focus on.
