A feeling of déjà vu, of having lived this before.
But a thousand times better.
Diving back into the comfort of the sheets.
Involuntarily resting her head in the curve of his neck.
Feeling alive, protected when he tightens his embrace, and his hand glides along her skin, moving from her hips to her waist.
Unconsciously raising her leg against his, just to feel even closer.
Being two and yet one, without thinking, eyes closed, immersed in a restful sleep. Releasing fear, pressure, feeling safe without even realizing it.
Letting her hand trail from his chest to the nape of his neck, anchoring herself more, afraid that it might all disappear, unintentionally.
Changing positions countless times throughout the night, letting the other find their place again, their bodies pressed together.
Orchestrating a silent dance without waking the other, without noticing, without thinking, like two magnets that can't be separated.
Pulling up the sheet so the other doesn't get cold.
Smiling in her sleep.
And then opening her eyes.
Slowly opening her eyes, gradually reconnecting with reality.
And then feeling that weight on her stomach, a hand delicately placed.
Feeling a breath gently brushing her shoulder.
Turning her head slightly, and seeing him. Realizing it's not a dream.
Smiling.
And finally, shifting positions once more, resting her head in the curve of his neck again.
Being intoxicated by his scent, again and always.
Smiling again and always.
And then feeling his hand moving up and down her back, tenderly.
Feeling him bury his face in her hair to kiss her.
Tenderly, again and always.
Remembering all those mornings they had shared, before everything fell apart.
Remembering all those wake-ups.
And reliving them, more intensely.
The last first morning.
Breaking apart, drifting away, healing alone, drawing closer, moving forward, finding each other again for a night, without regret, searching, healing together, talking, taking their time, and starting over.
Starting from scratch.
Being invited to a third last first date. Feeling nervous.
Falling in love again, even harder.
Feeling her heart race when his hand slips into hers.
Feeling her heart explode when his lips capture hers.
Looking at him and knowing that it's him, and no one else, in this life and the next.
Finally going home with him one evening and joining him in this room.
Their room.
Lucy had forgotten the happiness and simplicity of these moments. Cradled by the fear of suffering again, she had taken time to open up once more.
But loving him was inevitable.
Imagining a future with him, a whole life.
Finally accepting that the breakup, though painful, was necessary. Necessary to love each other properly, to love each other even more fiercely.
Recognizing, and no longer being afraid to say, that Tim was the love of her life.
It was over a drink with friends that she tried to describe the intensity of her feelings. Admitting that she would be willing to suffer again if it meant finding him over and over.
Tim pulled the sheet over their bodies, whispering a few words in the greatest secrecy, making Lucy smile and laugh softly against his skin.
And staying there for a while, pressed against each other, enjoying the silence and the warmth of the other.
Then, being pulled from bed by the alarm, reminding them that life existed outside these walls.
Falling back into old habits—embracing in the shower, drinking coffee while leaning against the kitchen counter, taking Kojo out into the yard, and heading to work.
Parking the car, sharing one last kiss, saying those two words to keep each other safe, stepping out, walking into the building, heading to the locker rooms, stealing one last glance before reuniting that evening just as they had parted that morning.
And loving each other even more. Always.
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22/03/25. Hello, hi! :) Just a little something that came to mind while I was listening to *Ordinary (Wedding Version)* by Alex Warren. Hope you love it. Take care! ♡ please keep voting and comment it helps :)
