If it was just a dream then she wouldn't be next to me, cuddled up to my side breathing slow and steady breaths. If nothing had happened how would I come to find myself awake in her bed, with her sleeping against my arm?
But as the seconds ticked by, and the sun grew in the sky, through the window, brightening the room, a sliver of panic ebbed its way into my skull.
Maybe it was a dream, and I'd be safe from backlash, safe from ridicule. But a lock of hair was drawn across her eyes and I brushed it back as she moaned, and as my heart leapt I knew. I knew what had happened. I knew it was more than okay, that it was perfection. That she was more than anything I could pretend to be, to stand for, because she spoke her truth. And her truth, for the time being, included being more than at ease next to me.
She rolled on her side, facing me, and I knew I would do anything to keep her. Knew she was worth whatever penalty or adverse effects that may come our way as she opened her eyes and smiled at me.
“Morning.”
“Mmmm,” she groaned and rubbed her head against my shoulder.
“How are you feeling?” I asked as she seemed to think with her eyes closed and I waited for her response. She seemed to be recalling the events behind her eyelids with a smirk and I drew my hand up to scratch my head.
“Yesterday,” she started with her eyes still closed, “I want to feel like yesterday."
And I gave her nose a light kiss.
YOU ARE READING
Maisy
عاطفيةHe told me to stop. But not an urgent stop, not the stop of a mother preventing her child from running into the street, not the stop of someone about to walk off a cliff. It wasn't clipped. It flowed. It flowed on and on and sank into his touch. Th...
