25 reads

The Line - Watch

What a beautiful dream, I think I'll stay a while - George Ezra, Staying at Tamara's

Dark

The curtains still shut, the apartment still quiet.

Other than the flashing blue dots on his bedside alarm, and the soft light coming from under the bathroom door.

Other than the faint sound of splashing water droplets in the shower.

I close my eyes again, curling into the warm sheets that smell like us.

They flutter open when he sits at the edge of the bed, bending down to tie his shoes, his lower back becomes exposed, his shoulders taught.

Seizing the moment, I lazily extend my arm into the darkness, hoping for our skin to meet. I brush cotton with my fingertips and I know, I need more.

As he turns to face me, features soft, my hand falls and comes into contact with rough denim. I'm greeted by his lips on my forehead, the tip of my nose. My lips.

The strong smell of pine reaching the back of my throat and waking me up out of my haze.

He stands to put on his watch, focused, lips parted just the slightest amount. Strap through the silver buckle, gentle fingers on smooth leather.

Although the air is heavy and the room dark, I feel as though I am floating.

And he is as clear to me as rosewater.