What He Can Remember About the Night Before that Hasn’t Been Lost in the Hopeless Blur of Love and Love and Finally, Finally:

How he was standing too close to her when she was unlocking her front door and how her elbow hit him in the stomach. The way she had tasted once they’d gotten their coats off and were standing in the entryway to her kitchen. That her wall felt cold and smooth under his palms as he trapped her there against it, still afraid that she would slip out somehow. Her laugh as she took off her shoes and more importantly the sound of her bare feet on the hardwood floor that led to her bedroom. His feet sliding as he stepped on pieces of paper strewn all over the floor, soft pencil drawings of trees that stretched on and on forever into the sky.

The Hopeless Blur of Love and Love and Finally, Finally:

She had thrown her head back into the pillow and laughed when his mouth made its way down from her neck and he had smiled, too, the front of his teeth against her collarbone. Her hands were holding his head then, her fingers moving through his hair, pulling at times, twisting at others. He was thinking at the time that it was the happiest moment of his life, that nothing would ever surpass it, nothing would ever feel the same to him as smiling against her skin felt.

Then, there had been the soft skin of her thighs against his hips as her hands reached up behind them to pull the sheet up and over their heads, canopying them. And he couldn’t see anything else then, just her face and her skin. The window was gone, the still life hanging over the bed was gone. She’d smiled and he’d wanted to crawl inside of her completely and never see anything else again besides her and the white.

She was quiet. Her soft moans like breathing against his skin and when she came, she whispered his name into his shoulder with her forehead pressing there. And he didn’t say anything for a while. He kept himself hovering over her and breathed in and then out until all he could do was tell her that he loved her and feel her palm against his cheek and her mouth against his.

Fact Not Fiction:

He runs the tip of his index finger along the part in her hair, follows its slightly crooked path. He reaches the end and walks back with his first two fingers. Her scalp is warm and as his fingers are making their way back, he shifts so his face is buried in the soft white pillow just a little more, because it smells like her apartment and it’s another reminder that he’s here, alive, in love, with his fingers taking a walk down her scalp and to her forehead. Where he stops and brings his hand back down to rest in between them.

She hasn’t woken up yet, but then again the sun is just now rising behind her. He hasn’t been able to sleep. Not with her here, not when there are still bits of skin he hasn’t touched yet. Not when it’s been almost four years and he doesn’t plan on taking any of this for granted. So he stays awake, feeling himself sink further into her bed, almost thankful that she has these bright white sheets because it makes it feel like the sort of love you see in movies or artsy commercials. Like what they do here is nothing but pure and true.

Her head is titled downward and her eyelashes are fanned out against her skin. He watches as the sun rises slowly, inching its way up her skin until her face glows orange. Her eyes move beneath her eyelids and he tries to listen to the stories they’re trying to tell. But then they’re fluttering open and a smile spreads across her face slowly as she stretches her legs out beneath the sheets.

“Good morning,” she says sleepily.

“Morning,” and it’s something he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to say to her like this.

“How long have you been awake?” She asks, turning over to look at the clock. But he stops her, grabbing her wrist and pulling her against him, kissing her.


Things They Talk About on the Way to Work that Same Morning:

-Oh, hey, your button’s are- I’ll fix it. No, Jim, come on, you focus on driving and I’ll fix your buttons.
-Fine, but the next light is long and it’s going to turn red for me and I’m going to kiss you.
-Alright, alright.

-Last night was…
-Yeah, I know.
-I love you.
-I’m really not going to get any work done today.

-Hey, Halpert, let’s keep two hands on the wheel.

-It’s weird.
-What is?
-This. Being in your car on the way to work right now after-
-Yeah, it is a little strange.
-In a good way, though.
-Definitely in a good way.

-Remind me to get milk tonight?
-Get milk tonight.
-I meant remind me later, like on the way home.
-Right. On the way home.

-Do you think it’ll be different now?
-What, work?
-Yeah.
-Of course.
- …
-Everything’s different.