, because it reminds me of you.
It’s midnight. I dim the lights and slip into bed, moulding myself with the thick covers, warm and buttery soft. It’s the very first night once again, and like all first nights, I long for your arms around me and the smell of your skin. I always feel a bit like the women you hear of in stories, books and film, women — damsels (in distress or not, is irrespective) — who wait for their partners to return from war or sea. A sailor, or soldier. You’re both to me, strong in character with a wonderful eye for exploration.
I sink deeper into the covers, allowing them to envelop me entirely. You would tuck us both in with such care, pulling the covers over us, making sure I’m completely covered and no inch of my body is left exposed to the wintry (yes, it is as such when you sleep in my vicinity) chill of the air-conditioning. You would gently tuck my hair behind my ear with your fingers, and run those very same fingers through my hair, knowing the intricacies of my preference for such a simple action, because you know just how I like it and how it inevitably lulls me into a slumber if done right.
You would then look at me, into me, your eyes soft and warm like deep, rich pools of chocolate. Saying all things unsaid. You look at me like no one has ever looked at me before. And it is that very instance, when I feel like the most precious and cherished person in this world.
Your arms would wrap around me, warm and strong and protective, shielding me from the battles of the world, and I would melt into you. You would pull me even closer and bury your nose into my hair, breathing me in and sighing in sheer content. I would feel your lips there, soft like the inside of a rose, and you would kiss my head good night, nuzzling it a little before drifting off to sleep yourself. Everything else would then melt away, far off in the misty distance.
The sheets and pillows still smell of you, and I bury my face in them, getting lost in your familiar and comforting scent before falling into a deep slumber. Come back to me soon, dear boy. I miss you.