Comatozze
The world had shrunk to the soft rustle of cotton and the shared warmth beneath our sanctuary of sheets. His fingers, tracing idle patterns on my arm, spoke a language more profound than any whispered word. I could feel the steady, reassuring rhythm of his heart against my palm, a silent drumbeat syncing with my own. Moonlight, a pale silver ribbon, slipped through the window to caress the curve of his shoulder, illuminating the quiet intensity in his eyes. Each breath we took was a shared secret, the air thick with the scent of his skin and the lingering promise of the evening. A soft sigh escaped my lips, not of sorrow, but of a profound, aching contentment that settled deep within my bones. He shifted, his forehead gently coming to rest against mine, our lashes nearly touching in the intimate darkness. In that suspended moment, the universe held its breath, acknowledging the fragile, beautiful truth being woven between us. The weight of his leg thrown over mine was not a claim, but an anchor, holding me safe in this harbor of our making. I knew then, with a certainty that eclipsed all doubt, that this was where every path I had ever walked was always meant to lead.
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