Shining Stars

Chapter 18

Slowly Christine awoke, her senses returning to her one by one. The smell of George's cologne filling her nose, the warmth that was surrounding her, the weight of his arm that was slung over her, the sound of his light snores in her ear. Cracking open her eyes she was just able to see the clock on his bedside table read almost noon before closing them again. This felt right, waking up in George's arms. A small smile played over her lips at the thought before it was wiped away by the memory of why she was here instead of at her own apartment and, against her will, a small tremble coursed through her body.

Immediately George's arm tightened around her, drawing her closer to him. "Stop thinking about it," he whispered sleepily. "It's not going to happen again. I give you my word on that." When she had rolled over to face him Christine was so close to his face that it was blurry before her eyes. "Morning," he whispered, fighting to keep his eyes open.

"Morning," Christine smiled at him. Leaning closer she kissed him, wrapping her arm around his side, under his arm, before snuggling even closer. Shifting so the he was on his back and she was lying under his arm silence descended over the late morning sleepiness of the couple in the bed.

"I could get used to this," George sighed, tightening his hold on her. "You, here with me, every morning. Not having to wait until work to see you, getting to see you first thing when I wake up. This is nice."

"M-hmmm..." Christine sleepily agreed.

Lying there, in his bed with Christine, half asleep, a thought popped into George's mind, snapping him awake with suddenness. 'I meant it,' he thought to himself. 'I do want this every morning.' Staring at the ceiling George made a decision, but at the same time knowing that this was something he was going to do right.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

In the den of his apartment, stretched out on a blanket on the floor, lights just bright enough to read by, George's voice was the only sound in the entire apartment. Her head resting in his lap Christine listened as he read to her from the book in his hand.

" " 'How now, spirit! Whither wander you?' Puck asked. The fairy replied, 'Over hill, over dale, through brush, through brier, over park, over pale, through flood, through fire, I do wander everywhere, swifter than the moon's sphere; and I serve the fairy queen to dew her orbs upon the green. The cowslips her pensioners be: in their gold coats spots you see; those be ruby's, fair favors, in those freckles live their savours: I must go seek some dewdrops here, and hang a pearl in every cowslips ear. Farewell thou lob of spirits; I'll be gone: our queen and all our elves come here anon.' " "

His voice lifting and dropping, keeping perfect time with the rhythm of the words George read to her from 'A Midsummer Nights Dream'. The leather bound book in his hand had been a gift from his grandfather, passing on to a twelve year old boy the love for Shakespeare as well as the love of an old man on his death bed.

Every Saturday night he read to her, whether they were at her place, his, or over the phone; a weekly celebration of the night they had finally realized their love for each other. Closing her eyes Christine was caught up in the sound of his voice and the story he told, able to see fairies and lovers gazes in her minds eye.

While one hand held the book the other was trapped within her own hands, the three hands resting on her stomach, rising and falling with each breath. Even as he read the words George couldn't help but realize how much this Saturday night ritual meant to him. Never before had he shared his love of Shakespeare with a woman, another sign of how much he loved Christine, but also another reason he knew she was the one he would spend an eternity with.