The Touch

        I was his favorite thing and he was mine.

        He was always there, needing me, taking from me, and loving me. I knew I could count on him to be there and fill me with the familiar warmness I knew only he could give me.

        We first met at the store, he looked at me and we both equally knew that we were meant to be. I went home with him that day. I couldn’t help myself, what can I say? He wanted me then just as he should have. I learned that his favorite drink was coffee. It was a drink I never had before, but I was open to anything if I knew he would be right with me, holding me. From that day we could never be seen apart and it was how I grew accustomed to his touch.

        His touch.

        It was like the sun rising and melting you in heat, the first nice relaxing heat you felt after a cold winter. He was there for me every morning and I for him. Every morning he looked at me with that smile because he knew in his heart I held the only one that was going to get him through the day. I’m shy telling you all of this. It might seem peculiar, I know, but we really are inseparable. I have never in my life felt so wanted. Before him I was cold, lifeless, emotionless, and forgotten. Now though, I can count on him to make me warm, make me happy.

        I’ve seen what he can do to others. I’ve seen him break others, scowl unhappily at something distasteful and snub them all together. With me however, I know he won’t ever look at me and my insides with a frown. He puts love into me and I give that same love back tenfold.

        If only you knew a love like ours. If you knew a love like ours I’m quite sure you wouldn’t ever cry. To know that someone has your back and-

        Look!

        Here he comes!

        I always smile at him when I see him. He always walks into the kitchen with sleep glazed over his face and I knew I was the one that could always clear that. He wasn't a morning person whereas I absolutely adored the rising of the sun. Well, maybe that was why he needed me so much.

        I smile at him and I know he sees it because he smiles back. He picks me up and I see his perfect pearly teeth. He scrubs my head a little before setting me down. Perhaps I had something on me? I hate being dirty around him. It’s the most embarrassing thing. I hear the sink turn on and soon he’s filling the coffee machine with water.

        Like I said, coffee was his favorite thing to drink. I was used to him drinking it by now. He turns back around and picks me up. My belly flops with glee. He must know I love when he does that. I hear him chuckle to himself and stirs that familiar warmness within me. Then puts me down again, sitting me on my favorite spot. It’s my favorite spot simply because it’s his favorite spot to put me. Maybe he thinks I look cute when I sit here?

        The coffee machine turns on and I smile at him. This time he doesn’t notice because he’s washing a spoon in the sink.

        Then he looks at me and makes sure I’m alright.

        I start to feel it, that warmness that draws us together. It’s this warmness that bonds us and makes us one. This is the warmness that has us sharing kisses and making his day better. It fills me to the brim and he picks me up again giving me a kiss on the head. During the kiss he drinks in the warmness I give to him everyday. Our bond. Our joy. Our warmth.

        He pulls back and smiles with content.

        Coffee is his favorite drink and I am his favorite thing.