Henry Cavill Fantasies

Clarity

"... If I am allowed to speak my inner truths, then my critics are allowed to speak their inner truths, as well." She read. "Fair's fair."

His arm rested comfortably across her lap while she sat, legs tucked under her, book in hand, and her back straight. From his position, beside her, and on his back, he stared up, watching as she read to him from a book she recently discovered and fell in love with.

This was a part of their new routine. Whenever free time would rise, together they would lay in bed, whether napping, watching a movie, reading their own books, or another activity all together, the end result was always a the same, a reading of the latest non-fiction she discovered.

It helped her get through the book faster and digest what she was taking in, she said. She had left out the key part that it was also to help improve her speech, which she admitted in confidence, once before that it had suffered dramatically over the years.

He loved this part of  their daily routine. He adored the way she would sit beside him, engrossed in the book, oblivious to the smile he gave her or the thoughts that went through his mind, though any would be oblivious to the latter.

But regardless, he felt a sense of tranquility when they were together. In all the chaos, she was his clarity.

She continued reading, her lips moving but the words never reaching his ears. His hand moved from her thigh, up to her waist. The movement broke her of her trance.

A warm smile appeared. The book was placed, pages side down, beside her.

"What?" She asked him, bending forward, her hand gently rubbing his chest.

"Nothing," he replied truthfully.

She laid beside him, arm resting on his chest while she held her head up with the other.

He had spared his arm in time, moving it to avoid being laid on. Then, he lifted his head and pressed a kiss to her lips.