SMALL HOURS

Somethings jerks, something races. My body. My heart.
I'm awake.

It's 3:47 AM.

Vivid images flare briefly, then the dream slips
through the pillow and down under the bed to lurk until
I drop off again. I'm left uneasy without knowing why.

And I'm damn cold. There must be a reason. Think,
Daniel.

It creeps up on me, slower than the gooseflesh. I have
no blankets.

There's barely any light but I don't need to see to
know that Walter's rolled over and taken the covers
with him. I look anyway.

All cats are grey in the dark and all men too. But he's
beautiful in greyscale -- a pencil sketch, all graphite
and shadow in the hollows of his face. One arm thrown
above his head, a stern look on his brow, even in sleep
he seems coiled, poised, full of potential energy. He's
mine. I still can't believe it.

I'm shivering, though, so I tease at the blanket until
I have almost enough to cover me. Walter moves a little
but he doesn't resist.

All cats are warm in the dark and I snuggle in, my cheek
against his shoulder, my arm over his chest. It's
restful, calming, and I begin to match my breaths to
his, thinking if I can just get the exact rhythm, maybe
I can get into his dreams as well.

His body heat seeps into me and I feel sleep tug me
down, down, down...

Something jerks, something races. My body. My heart.
Something kisses me. My man.

I take him in my arms. He runs his hand through my
hair.

We're awake til dawn.

-fin-