There was love like laughter in the late afternoons that summer. And she was thankful for elbows and knees all exposed in the sunlight and how the hair on his kneecaps was golden and soft beneath her lips. She was thankful for eyes like long blades of grass and how she felt them on her skin, on her bones. She was thankful for finally and the freedom of being in love with him and not just being in love. She was thankful for open windows and skin against skin until the crickets sang and she fell asleep with an ear pinned to his heart.
In the late hours, she listened to his audible existence (that faithful in and out) harmonize with locusts and sirens and neighborhood dogs. And she was thankful for the other girl going miles away from here and leaving him with her. Leaving the slope of his shoulder and the creases in his palms and the line of his jaw.
Cotton sheets pooled around them, thin layers of sweat pushing them down around their hips. Her lips sleepwalked their way down his side until they tasted cloth instead of salt and then their corners curled upwards as he shifted in his sleep. And she was thankful for these private moments when she could love him the way she wanted to with her forehead on his stomach, moving up and down. With the tips of her fingers finding the spaces between all of his ribs. With her mouth pressing against the insides of his wrists and elbows. And she could be sure he was dreaming of her.
When the moon hung big and low in the window, she watched its glow stretch across the expanse of skin between her own hips where he had his fingers splayed. And she was thankful to be able to whisper that she loves him when his fingertips moved enough to tell her he would listen. She was thankful for his lips soft against her neck and his sleepy, softly murmured response that rumbled through her before they fell backwards into sleep again.
The sun painted her eyelids orange with warmth as it rose in the morning. She felt it on her skin along with his mouth, moving lazily up and down her neck. And she was thankful for moans coming from somewhere deep in the back of his throat. She was thankful for the way he told her she was beautiful before he kissed each of her shoulders. She was thankful for joy swelling up in her belly and flowing freely from her mouth as he found every part of her with his lips. And she was thankful for the beginning of another day in a life that before she’d only painted in pictures.
Story Notes:
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
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