And then...
There is us.
The way he looks at me before he touches me,
As though he has all the time in the world.
His kisses linger.
His hands are confident,
Patient,
Certain.
He has a way of making me feel desired without saying a word,
Of turning every embrace into a conversation only our bodies understand.
Long after the lights go out,
We remain wrapped in each other,
Talking about everything and nothing,
Laughing between stolen kisses,
Finding reasons to stay awake just a little longer.
It's never just about the passion.
It's the tenderness afterward.
The way he pulls me close,
Runs his fingers through my hair,
Lets silence speak for us.
Those moments—
The quiet ones after our hearts have slowed—
Are the ones that made me realize
I was no longer just enjoying him.
I was falling in love with him.
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