They lay tangled with the covers. She watched him sleeping, yellow light seeping through the windows. She watched as shadows danced on his bare chest, rising and falling to the rhythm of his soft breath. His eyelashes touched the top of his cheeks. His mouth slightly parted. She couldn’t bear not to reach out, to feel him beneath her fingertips. She traced his lips, touched his ear, lay her palm flatly on his heart. He smiled with eyes closed, holding her hand with his, and pulling her in with the other. She kissed his neck, her lips unmoving, and breathed in his scent. His skin was dark, golden where the sun touched it. And when he looked at her, his eyes gave everything he saw, the lost innocence of a boy only war could take.
The sun rose higher and he made her breakfast. She sat at the counter with his shirt on and watched him, the muscles on his back, the broad shoulders that led to his thin waist. He would catch her looking and winked, a devilish smile on his lips. He is the most beautiful creature she ever saw. She couldn’t stop marveling that he was hers. That every stolen glance, every hidden spot, every morning like this was her possession. She loved him with every imperfection that made him beautiful. She adored every battle scar that kept him alive and brought him home to her.
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