He lay there breathing softly. Her head rested on his chest in that romantic way. She snored just above a whisper. He knew that bit of coolness trailing down his side was a thin line of drool. Movies never showed that. When she woke she would realize what had happened and would surreptitiously wipe it away from her cheek with her palm. And he would pretend that he had never noticed and she would pretend that she believed that.
He had been so gentle this time. There was not a hunger this time. There was not an urgency. It had been soft and delicate right up to that brief last moment when it is always savage and wild. The kisses - their lips - her lips... The feeling of her kissing him. The softness of her lips within his and around his and against his. Slowly and softly and familiar as they always were and strange and electric and teasing as they always were - her lips.
She had told him almost before he could close the door. He had heard her and understood her and still stood dumbfounded like he had never learned the language she spoke. She said it again and he had smiled so broadly and so desperately. His eyes had gone wide and the light reflected from them more brightly than a moment before. He thought he never wanted this. Realization: he had never wanted to want this. Her words only promised possibility. Pragmatism held him aware of all that could still go wrong. And he damned himself for not being properly lost in this happiness.
She woke as he shivered. She forgot herself and any embarrassment of sleep. She marveled at him. She had never seen this from him. She had not known this of him. He sobbed. Ginger cried.
She reached up to his cheek while softly breathing, "Shhhhhh. Its going to be alright. Its going to be wonderful. Its okay. Its okay."
After missing so many times, he managed to catch himself. He inhaled deeply... again. "Its more than okay. Its a Blessing."
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