He ran his fingers down her cheek, letting two of them drift to her soft lips. He smiled when her eyes fluttered open. She gazed back at him, a contented yet questioning look in her face. Then she closed her eyes again and snuggled closer to him. His hand dropped down from her lips and moved to hold her to him. Neither had to ask, they already knew.

He could feel her breath tickling his chest and closed his eyes too, letting his body relax and sink into the comforts of the bed they lay on. Moments like these don’t last forever, he told himself, knowing that looming deadlines and appointments would soon be fighting with her for his attention and that, in the end, his obligations would win the unfair battle. The deadlines and appointments always won because it wasn’t solely up to him; he was obligated to his band mates. He held in a long sigh, not wanting her to hear, but she felt him tense Even without that she would have known that something was wrong. She could tell that something wasn’t completely right, and she would try to fix it, as she always had.

Moments later he felt her head tilt up, felt her raise her head, and could tell she was watching him. He opened one eye, looked down at her and gave her a wry smile to ease her mind, but he couldn’t fool her. Her eyes asked him a silent question and he tightened his grip around her, trying to reassure her. Everything was all right. Everything was ok. She didn’t take her eyes off him, however until he had opened both of his eyes and was looking back at her. The room was completely silent, save for the sound of the rain outside. He could hear the fat drops falling from the sky onto the roof. If he were to tear his eyes away from hers and look at the windows that seemed to dominate the bedroom he would see them rolling down the glass panes and distorting his view of the outside world. But he didn’t. Instead, he continued to look down at her and let his lips curve up into a smile that lit up his face, laugh lines forming at the corners of his eyes. Then and only then did she let her guard down and let her body sink lazily into his again, her eyes drooping closed. He loved her and she didn’t have to ask, she simply knew.

His eyes closed again and he let his chin rest on top of her head. Like the rain, she washed away his worries, his troubles. She was his sun, his moon, his stars, his everything. She was a million clichés wrapped into one and he loved her for it. He loved her for being there and making it all better and for taking away his worries and his fears. He loved the fact that she could just be there to listen, even when she didn’t know how to respond. And even more he loved that she knew exactly what he was thinking before he opened his lips to form the words. She was his master mind reader, and at some points, the only one who understood him.

It was almost too good. Every day he waited for her to tell him something that would turn his life upside down. He expected it to turn out like a movie. They would be sitting on a park bench, feeding the birds, and she would deliver the news. Sometimes he imagined that she told him she was deathly ill with only a few weeks left to live. Other times he imagined her admitting to some sordid past. But it never happened. Whenever these thoughts invaded his mind, he would remind himself that she was in perfect health and then scold himself for doubting. Besides, he knew that she loved him too much to keep secrets of that magnitude from him.

All of these things were on his mind while her soft hands moved up his strong arms to his shoulders, kneading his muscles in the way that only her delicate touch could. He smiled inwardly; even with her eyes closed, she knew every curve and crevice of his body and he knew the same for her. Their knowledge didn’t stop with the physical either; he also knew how she cried at any movie that was even mildly sappy. How she cursed like a trucker whenever someone pissed her off and how she preferred talking face to face with someone than on the phone. Because, she explained, when you were on the phone you could never tell if what they were saying was true, you’d have to see it in their eyes. In addition to all these, he knew that she wasn’t perfect. She was constantly worrying about her weight and complaining that she didn’t put in enough hours at the gym. She became overtly shy whenever he took her to a party with him and would cling to his hand, once in a while whispering that he should introduce her to someone over there, that person looked intriguing. And once she had met the right number of people she would be ok, happy once again. Every time the topic of politics would come up in conversation she would go at length about how the damned Republicans weren’t doing what she thought the voting public wanted and how they were just giving money back to the people that already had it and heck the Democrats weren’t doing that fine of a job either and what the country really needed was for Clinton to come back into office because he was the only one that really knew what he was doing. After this he would laugh at her and remind her of the time when she hadn’t talked to him for two days because he said that he hadn’t really seen any faults with what Bush had done so far and would probably vote for him if he decided run again. After all, he’d handled the terrorist situation perfectly and shown his leadership skill. Then she would become defensive and explain that she approved of few things that that man did. And he would pull her into his arms to silence her and kiss her forehead with a chuckle, much to her chagrin, and everything would be ok.

He sighed contently and felt her lips press against his bare chest, her hands still moving lovingly on his shoulders. Then, as gently as they’d started, they stopped. Her breathing became heavier and she lay completely still for a few minutes, her body first tensing and then relaxing against his again. His eyes opened and her head lifted from his chest slightly, her eyes opening too. He saw the tear that, like the rain on the windows, had made its way down her cheek and then resting finally at her chin. He pressed his forehead against hers, and let his lips brush the bridge of her nose. When he pulled away from her, he saw that she was trying to say something, but failing miserably. He stared back at her, and then grinned, knowing what would make her happy. He started to get up out of the bed, pulling her with him. She clung to a sheet wrapped around her and he ignored it, still pulling her up and then completely sweeping her off the bed and into his arms. As quickly as he’d picked her up, he made his way across the room, dropping her up on his knee to open the sliding door that led to the balcony and then he stepped outside. He knew that she would probably kick, scream and protest. Saying that she was wearing nothing but a tank top and his boxers, and that he was wearing nothing but boxers, and that the bed sheet was trailing across the ground, and it was raining but he did it anyway.

She surprised him. Her eyes sparkled with mischief and incredibly, she smiled at him. He loved her smile. She tilted back her head, her mouth open in order to catch a few raindrops on her pink tongue. When she was satisfied, she turned her head towards his, her hair in long wet strands, and leaned forward to press her lips to his. She pulled away with a sigh and murmured, “Justin.”

He smiled back at her and kissed her forehead. “I know love, I know.” He kissed her again, not wanting to taint the moment with words. He pulled away this time, and they looked at each other for a long moment before he saw her eyes light up in a way that he loved and then finally heard her laugh bubble out of her lips. She hugged his shoulders, still laughing, now completely soaked, and he felt one feeling rising and filling his entire being as he listened to her laughter. Happiness. They looked at each other and didn’t have to speak. They simply knew.

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