The Christmas Olympics

Ugly Christmas Sweater Party

"Good morning," Arden murmured, her voice rough with the cut of sleep.

Arden yawned and stretched, her legs tangling in mine. She was pressed against my back, nuzzling her face between my shoulder blades, her arm draped over my stomach. I sighed into her touch.

I hadn't woken up in the guest bed in almost a week. I'd since learned that there was a much more comfortable place to sleep.

"Good morning," I replied. At my response, Arden kissed my back, right between my shoulder blades, where she kissed me every morning. That tender spot was quickly becoming my favorite part of my body.

I pulled Arden closer, pressing her lazy arm into my chest, holding her. I felt her smile against the skin of my back, just like she'd done every morning I'd woken up in her bed. Our morning routine was predictable: filled with an abundance of cuddling, tender kisses, and coffee. I'd grown accustomed to these mornings, learned to crave them, especially every touch Arden offered.

I learned a lot about Arden these last few weeks, waking up in her arms, spending my days lounging around her house or following her to the bakery.

Each morning, I woke up with sunlight kissing my face because Arden loved to fall asleep with the blinds open wide so she could wake up with the sunlight. I realized how much she enjoyed the natural light, especially in the winter. And, if it was warm enough, she would crack her window to hear the songs of the wind and birds pitching into harmony.

Each morning, Arden reached for me, an unconscious need to be close, to be touching, our bodies connecting. I learned how much Arden craved the touch of our bodies; she always found ways to touch me: tangling our legs together, putting her hand on my thigh, interlacing our fingers, resting her head on my chest, a brush of her fingers against my wrist—anything. She wanted to be closer, to be connected, and while I'd never considered myself a person who desired physical touch or gave it without forethought, I found with Arden it came naturally, a contagious effect of her affections.

I learned Arden sang while she showered. It still surprised me when I heard it, her voice strong and proud, carrying the notes to their finish. She sang loudly, confidently, happily. This quickly became one of my favorite things about her and the highlights of my days. When I knew she was showering, if I didn't slip in with her, I'd lay on her bed, a smile on my face, while I listened to her sing. The days she washed her hair quickly became my favorite days of the week because she had to spend much longer working her fingers through her long hair.

Arden also sang to herself while she did things about the house. She always had her record player or speaker on, and she sang to herself while she cooked, while she cleaned, while she put together a puzzle. It mesmerized me, caught me in an inescapable trance.

I learned Arden smelled like flour, butter, and sweat when she came from work, and somehow, she'd manage to heave a spec of flour somewhere on her face, despite denying it every single time. I always laughed when I'd swipe my finger over the spot and show her the evidence. She'd quickly grab my hand and kiss me instead. She tasted like coffee every time.

I learned Arden liked to be held, and if she never said it in so many words, she liked to care of other people, but her face, betraying her, revealed to me that she liked when I did small things for her, things that she never told me she wanted or needed, things I'd just known to do after knowing her for so many years.

I learned she was very particular about how her coffee was prepared, that she coveted her reading time every morning, and she loved to spend any extra money on records. I'd finally counted all of them one day when she was at work. She had over three hundred.

I'd learned so much about her in only a few weeks, and even more in these few days our relationship had begun, yet those days felt like a lifetime of knowledge, stored away, building a home for my affections. The foundation felt sturdy, powerful, and I felt a surge of confidence building this home that I hadn't experienced with another person.