The morning after

She didn’t stay the night but I came over to see her in the morning. Crashed on the sofa, snoozing off.

And she, the queen of the house, passes in the radiating nude in front of me, waking me up instantly.

Drop-dead gorgeous.

Did we really melt into each other last night? She doesn’t seem to be interested in the slightest.

She walks in again, this time in her bathrobe. So elegant! That second I’m next to her, first studying those feline eyes of hers, then untying the belt to make sure I haven’t just imagined the beauty underneath.

And as I start exploring her skin, I’m kissing her over and over again.

— What are you up to?
— Wanna make love.
— We have five minutes.
— Yes.
— No.

Never without my permission, I remember that much. I let go.

She’s definitely far closer to a perfect being than I am to Korben Dallas.

I leave hungry — but not disappointed by any means.

Few hours later, there’s a message:

— I feel safe with you.

And it has just made my day. Or more. Considerably more.