[He has to kiss her again, his lips lingering against hers, their breath mingling in the scant space between their mouths.]
Me too. [It's an I missed you from him, though he's not going to force that on her. But it's there for her to read if she cares to, in the slant of his smile, the way his hand rests gently (almost possessively) on her hip, the hushed whisper in his voice. It shouldn't come as a surprise that he's letting her dictate the terms of their relationship, whatever those may be, but that doesn't mean he isn't invested. He is.]
What are your plans tomorrow? [It's a Saturday; he doesn't technically have to go in to work. He's going to, but he might be able to convince himself to have a late morning if she felt up to it. The prospect of lying in bed with her as the sun crawled across the sheets is startlingly appealing.]
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Me too. [It's an I missed you from him, though he's not going to force that on her. But it's there for her to read if she cares to, in the slant of his smile, the way his hand rests gently (almost possessively) on her hip, the hushed whisper in his voice. It shouldn't come as a surprise that he's letting her dictate the terms of their relationship, whatever those may be, but that doesn't mean he isn't invested. He is.]
What are your plans tomorrow? [It's a Saturday; he doesn't technically have to go in to work. He's going to, but he might be able to convince himself to have a late morning if she felt up to it. The prospect of lying in bed with her as the sun crawled across the sheets is startlingly appealing.]