The room was quiet, the kind of stillness that wrapped around you like a warm blanket. The soft glow of the bedside lamp painted golden streaks on the walls, and the world outside felt like it had paused just for us.
He was sitting on the edge of the bed, his shirt unbuttoned, a soft smile tugging at his lips as I approached him. There was something about the way he looked at me—like I was the only thing that mattered in that moment. It made me feel both seen and safe.
We started with simple touches, fingers brushing against skin as if rediscovering familiar territory. His hands found my waist, pulling me closer, and my fingers trailed along his jawline, marveling at the roughness of his stubble. Our eyes locked, and for a moment, the air between us felt electric.
"You look beautiful," he said softly, his voice a low murmur that sent shivers down my spine.
I laughed lightly, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks. "You always say that," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.
"Because it's always true," he countered, leaning in to kiss me.
The kiss was slow and deliberate, like a conversation in its own right. It spoke of trust, of years spent learning each other’s rhythms, and of the unspoken bond we shared. As his lips moved against mine, I felt the rest of the world blur into insignificance.
We let the moment stretch, undressing each other with unhurried hands. It wasn’t just about the physical act—it was the intimacy of it, the vulnerability of letting someone see you completely.
Lying beside him, his fingertips traced patterns along my skin, and I couldn’t help but giggle at the ticklish sensation. "What are you drawing?" I asked, my voice laced with curiosity.
"Memories," he said, smiling as his hand paused over my heart. "This is where I keep them."
His words caught me off guard, and I felt tears prickle at the corners of my eyes. "You’re too good at this," I said, my voice cracking slightly.
"At what?" he teased, leaning down to press a kiss to my shoulder.
"At making me fall for you over and over again," I admitted.
The mood shifted then, deepening into something more intense. His hands grew firmer, his kisses more urgent, and I matched him, meeting his passion with my own. We moved together, a dance as old as time, and yet it felt new every time.
Between gasps and whispers, we talked—about nothing and everything. He told me how his day had gone, and I teased him about the way he always lost his keys. We laughed, kissed, and clung to each other, as if the night were infinite.
We lay tangled together, our breaths slowing in unison. My head rested on his chest, his heartbeat a steady rhythm beneath my ear.
"Do you ever think about what comes next?" I asked, breaking the silence.
He tilted his head to look at me, his eyes searching mine. "Next? Like tomorrow?"
"No," I said, tracing lazy circles on his chest. "Next as in... us. Life. Everything."
He smiled then, a quiet, reassuring smile that made me feel like all the answers in the universe rested with him. "I think," he said, "that as long as we keep nights like this, whatever comes next will be just fine."
I closed my eyes, letting his words sink in. The future was uncertain, but in that moment, wrapped in his arms, it felt like the only thing that mattered was the now.
He was sitting on the edge of the bed, his shirt unbuttoned, a soft smile tugging at his lips as I approached him. There was something about the way he looked at me—like I was the only thing that mattered in that moment. It made me feel both seen and safe.
We started with simple touches, fingers brushing against skin as if rediscovering familiar territory. His hands found my waist, pulling me closer, and my fingers trailed along his jawline, marveling at the roughness of his stubble. Our eyes locked, and for a moment, the air between us felt electric.
"You look beautiful," he said softly, his voice a low murmur that sent shivers down my spine.
I laughed lightly, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks. "You always say that," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.
"Because it's always true," he countered, leaning in to kiss me.
The kiss was slow and deliberate, like a conversation in its own right. It spoke of trust, of years spent learning each other’s rhythms, and of the unspoken bond we shared. As his lips moved against mine, I felt the rest of the world blur into insignificance.
We let the moment stretch, undressing each other with unhurried hands. It wasn’t just about the physical act—it was the intimacy of it, the vulnerability of letting someone see you completely.
Lying beside him, his fingertips traced patterns along my skin, and I couldn’t help but giggle at the ticklish sensation. "What are you drawing?" I asked, my voice laced with curiosity.
"Memories," he said, smiling as his hand paused over my heart. "This is where I keep them."
His words caught me off guard, and I felt tears prickle at the corners of my eyes. "You’re too good at this," I said, my voice cracking slightly.
"At what?" he teased, leaning down to press a kiss to my shoulder.
"At making me fall for you over and over again," I admitted.
The mood shifted then, deepening into something more intense. His hands grew firmer, his kisses more urgent, and I matched him, meeting his passion with my own. We moved together, a dance as old as time, and yet it felt new every time.
Between gasps and whispers, we talked—about nothing and everything. He told me how his day had gone, and I teased him about the way he always lost his keys. We laughed, kissed, and clung to each other, as if the night were infinite.
We lay tangled together, our breaths slowing in unison. My head rested on his chest, his heartbeat a steady rhythm beneath my ear.
"Do you ever think about what comes next?" I asked, breaking the silence.
He tilted his head to look at me, his eyes searching mine. "Next? Like tomorrow?"
"No," I said, tracing lazy circles on his chest. "Next as in... us. Life. Everything."
He smiled then, a quiet, reassuring smile that made me feel like all the answers in the universe rested with him. "I think," he said, "that as long as we keep nights like this, whatever comes next will be just fine."
I closed my eyes, letting his words sink in. The future was uncertain, but in that moment, wrapped in his arms, it felt like the only thing that mattered was the now.
