Miss, Do I Know You?

29 - Sunday, January 24

Merging radiant sunbeams and tender caresses, the dawn unfurled with a peace I had seldom known. I knew without a doubt that I would never forget how big my smile was that morning, if for no other reason than the fact I awakened with her in my embrace, the weight of her leg and arm upon me a comforting burden.

Her hair was a wild tangle of waves, her cheeks painted with the rosy hue of sleep, and her breath a soft caress upon my skin that roused my senses. Nestled against me, her bare skin warmed me more than any blanket could have. I could still almost feel my stomach tingling.

With the gentle dance of my fingertips tracing paths upon the back of her arm, a hushed greeting tiptoed from my lips. But in response to my voice, she stirred and slowly recoiled from the contact in almost like an instinctive reaction, her slumber-laden murmurs carrying faint curses. Refusing to let her slip away, I kept her close until her face turned, ascending to meet my gaze in a transient glance.

In that brief moment, I witnessed the spark of recognition that flickered within her, a lingering thought, as if she could not fathom why I was still there. Succumbing to an irrepressible impulse, I pressed a gentle kiss upon her forehead, a gesture that conjured a wispy smile upon her drowsy countenance. And in the next breath, she collapsed back against my chest, her grasp growing tighter as if purely by instinct.

The look of her half asleep was a beautiful thing. All I wanted was to stay. If only we could've lingered there for eternity yet uncounted, my heart would have known no bounds of contentment. The birds singing in the morning light had never heard of a happier soul than I at that moment, for my existence had taken a turn for the better in many aspects.

Alex drifted away from my side, and her skin eagerly embraced the light of the sun's golden rays pouring through the window. Her pajama pants had hitched up her tattooed legs, every gorgeous curve of her body enchanting my gaze while she stretched with captivating languor, almost spilling off the edge of the bed.

Letting out a few sleepy groans, she propped her head on her hands, her luscious locks framing her countenance in unruly waves. And as her eyes met mine at last, it was as if she had awoken from a dream only to find herself in an even more wondrous reality, her face a gentle fusion of surprise and delight.

"Good morning," I repeated once more, my joy surging at her cuteness. "Someone finally woke up."

Another adorable smile blessed my eyes, so wide it seemed like her cheeks would burst. "Good morning," she said, her voice holding its morning raspiness. "How I'd missed waking up to you."

I gave a soft chuckle, recalling those few nights we had spent on her couch that had gone unacknowledged. "Oh, so you did like that?" I joked. "What I remember is the awkward stares."

Her lips curved into a sweet smile as she flipped to her side, resting her head on her hand. "Those awkward mornings were a small price to pay for being able to sleep through entire nights," she said. "And you're even warmer without clothes on."

I sent her a gentle smile, seizing the opportunity to trail my fingertips along the tattoos on her arm. But within my touch, a delicate fear danced, of rushing too far forward too quickly. I wanted to learn all about her, touch every inch of her, and take the time to savor such moments with her—the shy grace we had found ourselves in. I knew it needed to be approached slowly.

But the way her gaze lingered was one of sweet invitation, granting me silent consent to venture further. In her presence, even the mere thought of bravery made me nervous. But soon enough, I felt peace. Mesmerized by the way she melted under my touch, my fingertips glided along her chest and stomach, committing to memory each and every groove, every bump, and every perfect imperfection as timeless keepsakes.