The manic rhythm and pound of the rain drowned my immediate morning after truth. There was finally something new for my history book. For sure. I reached still and silent to trace the dark permanent design down his arm.  Swirl to straight a dream and design under my light touch. Fuck. I righted slowly, the pale, cool sheets barely covering and settling at my waist. My head dizzied, as I stretched to toe open the heavy wooden blinds. Jerk. How dare you with these beautiful, clear beveled glass windows? I need these windows.  Smirking, a faint giggle to myself, I breathed deep, glancing down over my naked self. I opened to last night’s memory with a shiver. Those sill selfish, righteous moments after a first when you feel so completely empowered flowed free. Suddenly, fingertips grazed my bare hip. I peeked over my shoulder, knowingly coy, winking. “You’re still here,” he whispered.  Sleepy, sexy, smug, he tucked his pillow beneath his chest.
“I’m still here.”
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