Soft eyes rested on the table in front of him.
On it was a person who he held close to his heart.
There she was,
Sleeping.
Her smooth, silky hair framed her pale, porcelain-skinned face perfectly.
Oh, what a privilage it was to him to be the only one to view such a sight.
How he wanted her so much.
Trying hard to fight his desires, he distracted himself by scanning the table, listing down all the dishes that she had prepared along the way.
She must've waited for me, he thought.
And just like that, a smile crept onto his face.
He grabbed a chair and sat on the opposing end of the table,
Eyes on her and her alone.
"I'm home," he whispered, his hand making its way towards her, resting on her cheek and stroking it gently. "Sorry I was late, dear."
Perhaps it was just his imagination, or maybe he was going crazy, but he could've sworn that he saw subtle traces of a grin on her lips.
That in turn, made him grin too.
Maybe he was going crazy, who knows?
Love's a crazy thing, and he couldn't even be any more in it than he already is.
With her.
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-end-
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