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250 words on: Intimacy

This has absolutely nothing to do with anything current in my life. It isn't necessarily about anyone in particular, although it is drawn from memory; it's a composite of several different experiences.

It must have been a little after dawn when I woke the first time that morning, judging by the color and angle of the light peeking between the blinds. You were strong and warm against my back, curled together as we were. At first I was a little confused by that unexpected warmth. It wasn't something I ever had the chance to get used to. Your arm held me to you, but just then I felt safe and secure instead of confined. I stretched back my leg so it could touch you as well.

It was far too early for me to want to be awake. We had been up late the night before and had nowhere to go that morning. I didn't move, but continued to drowse in your arms. I didn't want to wake you, for I knew the simple comfort and peace would not and could not last, and it might never be repeated. This was nothing more than one idyllic moment, seemingly outside of time.

Your breathing changed, and you moved slightly, leaning forward into me and shifting a little extra weight against me. Whether consciously or not, you moved your hand and cupped my breast. I tensed, afraid I had woken you after all. After a moment, your breathing deepened again, back into the rhythmic patterns of sleep. I relaxed against you, and slowed my own breaths to match yours. The soft rising and falling lulled me back into sleep as well, warm and content.

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