The Never-ending Story

I sat in my chair and opened to the spot of my bookmark. I glanced over at the bed to see if he was still sleeping, he was. I resumed my place reading and got a few chapters in before the rustling of the olive-colored bedsheets signaled he was waking up. The familiar head of brown wavy hair fell away as he turned to face me when his outstretched hand didn’t fall on me when he reached it over to my side of the bed.

As much as I tried to go back to my reading, I couldn’t help but watch him as he got out of bed. The sun shone through the window as he brought his legs over the side of the bed before standing up. I like his legs now that I was looking at them, the only things that gave him the extra head of height that he had on me. My eyes moved up to his torso past the dark gray cotton of his boxer briefs as he stood up and stretched. I could see the abdominal muscles contracting and made my way towards his outstretched fingers as if he were reaching for the sky.

I shifted positions in my chair.

My movement drew his eyes towards me and I didn’t see it, but he gave the slightest of smiles. I tried to pretend like I hadn’t been staring at him as I turned my head in his direction.

“Good morning sunshine,” I said.

That brought out a slight chuckle as he strolled over behind my chair. The warmth of his hands was comforting as he cupped my face and brought his down to meet mine. His lips were equally as warm. He walked over to the kitchen and started making the coffee.

“I haven’t been over in a while with you staying at my place so much,” he said with the last remnants of his raspy morning voice, “What are you reading these days?”

“The Neverending Story,” I replied. “It was one of Anna’s Christmas gifts. It’s one of my favorite childhood movies.”

“I didn’t know that about you,” he said. “Another piece I get to add to the puzzle.”

“Oh, really,” I said sarcastically. I got up, walked up to him, and wrapped my arms around his waist. “And how far are you now?”

“I’ve finished the outside and I’m just about done with your left eye and the bottom half of your nose.”

I let out a playful laugh and stood on my tiptoes to kiss him again.

I melted at the look in his eyes as I pulled away.

“I love you,” he said.

“I love…your coffee,” I replied as I smiled and poured myself a cup.

He looked down at the mug in my hand and said, “Oh what I would give to be you right now.”

I laughed at that. “I love you too, of course.”

We ate, dressed, and each got ready for our separate days. I had lunch with Anna before I headed to class and he had to return to his apartment to write before we were to meet again at my place for dinner. I wished I could skip class and be with him while he writes, I love it. There’s a seriousness to his face and I feel like I can see the gears turning in his head. I could spend all day watching the movements of his fingers on the keyboard as he typed away. I equally loved when he asked me to read anything or when he asked me to help him think through a block. Being creative together was like a high for me, and I was certainly addicted.

As I walked up to my door, I could hear faint music playing from inside. He must’ve beaten me back. I turned the key in the lock and opened the door to a beautiful cello playing a sonata or concerto I didn’t know and the smell of my favorite wax melting in the warmer. Dinner sat next to him and in my place on the other side of the table. In the middle, there was a single lit candle. There he was, sitting at the table waiting for me. I sat my bag down, walked over, lifted myself up to straddle him in the chair, and wrapped my arms around his neck.

“And what did I do to deserve this?” I asked.

“Not a damn thing,” he said as he kissed me.

Before things got too heavy, I pulled away and got up. That would be saved for later. I went into my bedroom to change clothes, something more comfortable, and also easily removable. We ate and talked about our days. After we finished eating, I gave him a look and he knew what I wanted. He went to his bag and pulled out his laptop so I could read what he had written for the day. I finished and he got up to come and sit next to me on the couch. I set the laptop down on the table and sat up to straddle him again.

“It was amazing as always,” I said.

“You’re so beautiful when you read. I will never get tired of watching you read my writing.”

And so, it started.

I stood in the bathroom looking in the mirror after we had finished. I replayed every moment of what just transpired, every sensation, every inkling of detail. I wondered what my body would look like now under a UV light. What the patterns of his fingertips would look like on my skin. I’d be striped like a zebra from my face as he stroked my cheek, down to my lips when he playfully slid his thumb between them and I playfully bit it back and touched it gently with the tip of my tongue. Down to my thighs as he caressed them as we kissed over and over again with me straddling him on the couch.

I’d also be spotted like a giraffe. Large spots where he gripped me right under my thighs as he picked me up to carry me to the bed, or when he gripped me so tight on my waist as if it were the last thing he was ever going to hold as he sank into me. The smaller spots his lips made dotted my skin too as he kissed my lips, my neck, my chest. I brought my hand up to touch the real spot a few inches below my right ear where he stopped for a while. I would have to cover that up in the morning.

I went back out and laid on my side facing him in the bed. He reached his hand and moved a stray hair behind my ear.

“Penny for your thoughts?” I asked.

“How amazing that just was,” he said, “And also how happy I am to be with you.”

“And to think one day, every day can be like this.”

“What a life that would be.” And with that, we kissed and went to bed. A new day to start when the sun rose again.