Knows
Sebastien
He's quite lovely when he's sleeping. When he's not smirking and his eyes aren't twinkling with something I can't quite read. When he's just laying there, his features relaxed, his lips looking soft and intensely kissable, his hair falling in his face...that's when I fall for him. Every single time.
I always thought it was weird that I was an early riser. Up until the last few weeks, it was useless. No one else was ever awake, and I had nothing to do for a few hours. But now...it isn't so bad. Because now, when I wake up early, I can spend that time with the Andy that I love, the Andy that's dark against my white sheets. The Andy who nuzzles my neck as he's drifting off, who curls against me in his sleep. Almost...protectively. He pulls me against him and shields me, like its instinctive. Second nature to him.
Or maybe I'm just crazy, reading too much into things. The only time he's ever shown any real emotion is right after sex, and God knows you can't trust any man when he's still high off of orgasm. He's torturous and arrogant and frustrating ninety-nine percent of the time, but he's incredible in bed, and...well...when I'm with him, it feels good. Right.
Like this moment, watching him sleep, his chest lifting and falling, his breathing soft, eyelids fluttering just a bit. Twirling his soft, shiny, black curls between my fingers. Running my other hand idly over his arm. Savoring the way his legs feel all tangled up with mine.
God, he would tease me so much if he knew about this.
Which is why these mornings are mine. He never has to know.
______________
Andy
I love when he does this. I love the feeling of his hand in my hair, his fingertips brushing along my arm. I have to fight to stop from shivering. I want to touch him...want to just curl my arms around him. But then he'll know I'm awake. And if he knows I'm awake, the charade is over.
Because we have to keep up the game. I have to pretend I'm arrogant and indifferent, when all I really want is to tell him how much I need him. But it's the way we are, it's the relationship we've built. As fucked up as it is, it's worked so far. If it ain't broke, don't fix it, and all that.
But it would be wonderful if one of these mornings, I could just open my eyes, stare at him, and whisper how much I love him. One of these mornings I want to twirl his hair between my fingers. I want to watch him while he sleeps. I want to let my hand graze along his arm, until he shivers, until he's shaking. I want to hold him and kiss him and make love to him...
But I can't. So I just have to silently enjoy this.
Because it doesn't work if he knows.
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