The soft movement of the cloth on the window. The gentleness of the fabric moving with the breeze. It somehow soothed her as she lay there in his arms. In his bed.
She felt as if she had finally found her place, where she belonged. There, next to him. His deep breaths as he quietly slept. Watching him, feeling him. His long masculine body, relaxed. Her soft feminine self, wrapped around him. Her heart open to him in a way that she had never experienced.
It was as if her world did not begin until this very moment. That everything in her life was but preparation for this moment. This time.
She lay there, mesmerized by his presence. Feeling a connection that she did not know was possible. A connection with another human being so real, yet so etherial. She knew that it was something she wanted. Something she craved, but she could not put words to it to describe it to anyone, much less herself. But, here she was, feeling it. Experiencing it. And it was very real.
It was the little things he did. The way he looked at her, the way he touched her. It was in his kiss, and his embrace. His words and the way he spoke them. No one thing that she could put her finger on, but the collection of all the little things that touched her so deeply. Indescribable. It was if someone, some greater being from the universe, dipped into her subconscious and created this man from a pattern that she had written and designed without words, without conscious thought. And here he was, next to her and very real.
Her thoughts now were only how she could hold onto this feeling forever. Knowing that she would do whatever it took to keep it. To somehow write it on her heart and in her memory so that she could relive it each and every day, for the rest of her life.