He asked me yesterday why I wasn't writing anymore.
He said he misses it. So here, I'll write about you.
Because I've never been so incandescently happy now that I'm with you.
Our lazy days together are the ones I like best.
Flat on our backs, hands and legs intertwined, with the soft rays of the sun touching our skin.
I, much absorbed by whichever book I'm reading. And you, engrossed with that game you've been playing. And it'll be still, and silent, and comforting, and perfect. And you'd kiss me ever so often, ever so gently. And I would purr, and smile, and purr some more, and you'd laugh at me for reasons I cannot comprehend, then after a deep sign of utter bliss and contentment, we'd both be back in to our own graphic - pixilated ventures.
And then a battle cry, I'd hear from you, and you'd pull me away, taking me by the waist. And you'd hug me, and shower me with sweet and soft kisses. I wouldn't have a clue as to what was going on, only that I'm rejoicing all of a sudden, because you're my victor!!! You've won your game as you've won my heart. And these moments are priceless and I couldn't be more gratified that you have chosen me to spend it with you.
My only problem is that.. My dear, you never let me finish my book.
