“God, its good, right?”
He is stroking her thigh,
His other arm arched up over their heads on the pillow
So he can tease the tangled strands of her hair.
She nestles into his neck, breathing him in—
She's loved his scent since she met him, years before—
“I think good is an understatement.”
He laughs, agrees;
“You know what, it's true. It's crazy, yeah?”
“It is. I might even give you top five!” she teases.
He is laughing, belly shaking, staring starry eyed at the ceiling above them,
A white wash as pure as their love
And a sharp contrast to the flicker of nervousness
That tries to station itself deep in her gut.
She snuggles closer to avert her eyes
And kisses the edge of his jaw
Because he's always been able to call her bluff.
She doesn't want to think about the future yet
Not yet
And besides, she'd rank him number one.
When he mutters something about needing a cigarette
And loving the way it feels with her
She tells him the obvious answer is that it can only be this good
Because it’s them.