...

I open the door to his room. I take him in. he’s soundly sleeping. i reach out and gently brush back his hair, and kiss him on the forehead. There is no response, he’s lost in his sleep. I remove my watch and bracelets and lay them on his desk with my necklace of keys. I take off my yellow jacket, my sweatshirt, my skinny jeans, and my mismatched socks, leaving only his grey-and-white striped shirt on. I burrow softly into his bed. I let my body adapt to being under the covers. I reach my arm to rest across his stomach, and I gently press my cheek against his chest and I hold myself there, listening, hoping to understand each beat of this man’s heart. I lean up and briefly press my lips to his. I raise my head back and look down at him—he is perfect, truly perfect—I allow time to pass through my heart. Again, I kiss him: a longer, softer kiss. His eyelashes flicker, and his eyebrows wrinkle down as he opens one eye. He sees it’s me, his face relaxes, his eyes close, his arm reaches to wrap around my back and waist. His head rests back, I lower mine to his chest. I fall asleep in him, with him. I love the familiar scent of his naps.