Dair's Window...part of chapter one...

Adam is beginning to speak...

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My last day with Dair was the first day of spring.Warm comforters held us in place long past night, refusing to release the beauty of near waking. Even with soft snow against French doors, filtering early light across our bed. 

It was I who woke first, as always, and took in my breath of him. Drew him deep to bring him even closer as I whispered... 

"Dair it's Adam.
 Dair it's Adam. 
 Dormez-vous? 
 Dormez-vous? 
 If you were awake, now. 
 We could have some fun, now. 
 Foolin' 'round. 
 Foolin' 'round."  Touched with the lightest of laughter. 
He sighed and shifted, like a sleepy kitten, and his rough, oh-so-exquisite hands grasped mine as if to pull me closer. His powerful body, so lovely in form, adjusted to mine, and his deep, dark, elegant eyes squinted a bit tighter as he drew in his first waking breath. With the hint of a purr, he rubbed his morning whiskers against my forearms and murmured, “Snuggle.” 
I chuckled and shifted so my nose nuzzled his ear. Mornings like this were always so perfect.Ooh-la, how I loved the feel of him. Strong. Well-fitted. Touched with hair in just the right places. His form was not as carefully crafted as mine, nor even as solid. Merely human and real, with a soft layer of perfection to cover him. Someone to hold you and be held. 
I cannot describe the pleasure I would feel tracing my fingers down his perfect back. Always, always a surprising joy. Or to draw my hands through the dark hair cropped close to his head...that was the embodiment of fulfillment. To feel him breathing under his sleeping shirt was intoxication. Even the light scruff around a chin so neat and strong, for it to rub against mine as his lips touched mine was to know heaven. 
I especially loved to caress the lines in his face, soft creases brought about by joyous smiles. So many times I had told him they made him better looking than I, and on each occasion he would laugh and call me liar and draw me into his embrace...and peace would surround me.He was the very meaning of comfort.
Of home. 
How could that have been possible? For one such as me to find a man so wonderful? What had I done right for this reward? Nothing in my life had prepared me for it.Nothing.
Nor had anything prepared me for the possibility that I might lose him.
But at that moment, on that last morning, the only thoughts I had were that I was his and he was mine. My only world. And to love him was to love life in all its beauty.
And cruelty.