2021 - Intimatepov

I don't remember when I first noticed the way you breathe when you're almost asleep.

Tonight, I turn over slowly so I don't wake you. Your face is relaxed in a way it never is during the day — no meetings, no deadlines, no polite masks. Just you. Just the soft fan of your lashes and the faintest sound of your breathing catching when I press my lips to your collarbone.

But then your eyes flutter open, still hazy with sleep. And you whisper, "Can't sleep either?" intimatepov

The Space Between Heartbeats

It’s softer than your waking breath — a slow, warm tide that pulls in just beneath my ear. Your chest rises against my back, and I can feel the exact second your arm tightens around my waist, even though I know you're not conscious enough to mean it. I don't remember when I first noticed the

Some people search their whole lives for a moment this quiet. And here I am — tangled in sheets and you — afraid to move, because moving might break the spell.

I shake my head. You pull me closer, and suddenly the dark isn't empty anymore. It's full — full of your warmth, your heartbeat against my palm, your voice low and rough and meant only for me. Just you

I wonder if you know how often I watch you like this. How I memorize the weight of your hand on my stomach, the way your leg hooks around mine without thinking.