I’m learning the shape of his body. How he sleeps. The sound of his breathing. And I’m thankful for all of it—the gentle way he runs his hands along my thighs to build heat inside me, the way he clasps my hands and holds them against his chest when they tremble, how he nuzzles his lips into the crook of my neck when he needs to warm them. It doesn’t bother me. Instead, it feels oddly right, like we fit together in every way.
