Psyche and Eros

Hello, Beautiful

The next morning, I roll over, forgetting to expect him by my side. It awakes me instantly, but the moment his arm sleepily tugs me closer, I find it unbelievably welcoming. 

One of his fingers trails along the middle of my back until sleep claims me again. I swear I haven't slept this well since I was back home, long before all the worries of growing up plagued my head. It was the type of ten hour sleep only a child without worries could indulge in.

I'll take that as a good sign. How much comfort he brings me. Despite how much I slept in already, I found myself lulled back into the dreams I just left. 

The next time I wake up, it is without arms surrounding me, but the slight smell of cooking food wafts all the way from downstairs.

A worthy consolation.

I jump out of bed like a child on the anniversary of their birth, eager to see what is waiting for me downstairs. I glide down the stairs, barely wearing anything but one of my soft robes around my sleeping dress. A daring choice, I must say - though he would be stupid to not like it.

The clatter of plates being set out greets me, though I know he senses my presence. I've learned not to doubt him - even in utter silence. He is always alert, as if a predator were to strike...or perhaps, that is typical of a God.

Likely the latter...among many, many other things.

I freeze in front of the room, not quite entering it, not quite speaking. I'm not sure what to even say. After last night, I am purely speechless. Is it normal to have flashbacks of the previous night so vividly? 

"Hello, beautiful." He breaks the silence for me. Such simple words, yet so painfully attractive.

My cheeks flush. "Hello...handsome." I try to sound just as flirtatious, but it doesn't come as naturally for me.

He chuckles, pulling out a chair for me. 

I take a seat, perched in front of the island. I feel him still standing behind me, the warmth of his arms hovering just around my shoulders. I lean into them instinctively until they wrap around me, pulling me close against his chest. I feel him kiss the top of my head. 

We stay there for a moment, quiet in our bliss, until he murmurs something into my hair.

"Hmm?" I bring myself back to reality.

"I said, after we eat, do you want to try flying with me again?"

I feel resistant to the idea, but a part of me wants to be adventurous. The opportunity to go somewhere outside is also hard to refuse...so I nod in hesitant agreement.

If I vomit my guts out, I'll be embarrassed, but it won't be the end of the world.

*             *            *             *

An hour later, my entire body is tensed, holding on for dear life as my stomach rushes into my chest.

I would be an imbecile to not recognize how wonderful it is that he can fly. That he is this strong, this exciting, this...beyond me. I would also be an imbecile to not fear falling. He would catch me - but that doesn't make it any less nerve-wracking. 

I had wished with all my might that my tolerance for air travel had increased. I hope that could still change, because honestly, I can tell how much he enjoys taking me. Even without seeing his expression, I know he must be grinning from ear to ear, watching my eyes widen at takeoff.

After the initial take off - which is the worst part that I hold my breath for - he takes it easy, swooping us calmly until we reach the edge of a creek, nestled safely in a circle of cherry trees. Such a pretty and obviously premeditated spot to take me.