After the Storm
Added 2025-04-18 17:22:47 +0000 UTCThe world outside hadn’t stopped, but in this room, it didn’t matter.
Their bodies curled into one another like a secret the morning sun wasn’t supposed to find. Sheets tangled around limbs, skin warm and familiar, and that quiet rhythm of shared breath. They hadn’t planned to fall asleep like this—wrapped so closely that it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began—but it had happened the way most real things do: slowly, gently, and then all at once.
His hand rested just under the other's collarbone, fingers still tracing the path his lips had followed hours before. Not out of lust, but to remember. To anchor. Their eyes stayed locked, not wide-eyed with newness, but heavy with that soft look only love—or something dangerously close—can carry.
No words.
They didn’t need any.
Just the slight pull of hips, the steady thrum of two hearts syncing, and the kind of silence that speaks louder than anything else.
They had fought hard to find this softness—in themselves, in each other, in the world.
And now, in the still heat of the morning, their bodies told the only story that mattered:
“I’m here. I see you. I’m not letting go.”
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