She hasn’t woken yet, but her forehead is pressed to my shoulder, her red hair spilling into the space between us, shining in the pale sunlight. Her knees are drawn up to press against my outer thigh. I am torn between wanting to wake her so I have the pleasure of seeing her eyes, and wanting to let her sleep so I can continue to watch the sunlight drift along the bare curve of her shoulder. I am torn between wanting to stay by her side until the end of time, and wanting to find every single person who would dare wish her harm so I can put a blade through them myself. I have felt protective of
...more
love. :')
