Page 84 of Every Shattered Note
This is the part no one writes songs about because it’s too fragile to hold.Too real to rhyme.She finally opens her eyes, hazy and soft, the color of morning after rain.
A small, sleepy smile tugs at her lips.
“Hey.”Her voice sounds like sunlight looks.
“Hey.”I kiss the top of her head.
We just stare at each other, like we’re both waiting for the world to crash back in.
It doesn’t.
“Did you sleep?”she asks.
“Some,” I murmur.“Even when I didn’t want to.”
“Why not?”
“I was afraid this was a dream and you’d disappear.”
She laughs softly, tucking her face against my shoulder.
I feel the smile against my skin.It does something to me I can’t name.Something dangerous.
I kiss her hair before I can stop myself.My lips linger there, breathing her in.I’m not supposed to want this.
Not the woman.
Not the morning.
Not the stillness that comes after everything else has burned out.
But this time I fucking do.
And I don’t know what to do with that.
Her fingers trace idle patterns across my chest, slow and lazy.
“You’re thinking too loud,” she murmurs.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”She tilts her head up, eyes still half-closed.“You look like you’re trying to write a song in your head.”
I grin, guilty.“Maybe I am.”
“What’s it about?”
I glance down at her.“This.”I kiss her softly.“You.”
She laughs again—soft, disbelieving, but it lands in my chest like a promise.
Then she shifts, her mouth brushing my collarbone as she whispers, “Now it’s my turn to tease you.”
She starts slow.
Featherlight kisses pressed to my neck, my shoulder, and down across my chest.Like she’s memorizing the shape of me.Like I’m something she’s decided to learn by heart.
“You’re so fucking pretty,” she murmurs, lips dragging across my ribs.“Bet you don’t even know it, do you?”
