Part dream, part made up

[random comments are thrown in in brackets]

We were laying by a tent in a forest. Stars drizzled across the cloudless black sky, and the grass was faintly wet around the blanket that we were laying on top of. The huge magnolia tree, surrounded by massive oaks, glistening with night dew, was alive with the sound of cicadas, and I was silent. It was sweet, he was holding my hand, and telling me about astronomy. He spoke of constellations I have not even heard of, and distant galaxies light years away. His eyes glistened while he went on one of his tangents on spaceships and satellites. With what passion he speaks whenever astronomy is brought up... makes everything else seem unimportant and miniscule.

"I wish you talked about me how you talk about the stars," I muttered mostly to myself. If only I was his obsession, his reason to live. This gorgeous man, who layed right by me, in the usual shirt and jeans, his hair glowing a light blue sheen under the moonlight.

"Silly Yana. I do. If you don't hear me talk about you, it doesn't mean I don't. I at times discuss you with my friends. And when my friends aren't around, I am left all to myself with thoughts of you. Thoughts of the smell of your hair [strange part of the dream considering the fact that he can't smell], the way your body feels right by mine when I hold you close, the way the taste of your lips lingers long after a kiss. You are brilliant, and by far more interesting and gorgeous than anything else in the universe."

[Sometimes I wish he talked like that in real life. I understand he is a little awkward with stuff like that (so am I, hah that's the reason only Justy reads this), but it would blow my mind if he said anything of the sort. Oh and he would not agree with the previous statement for many reasons, but this is not the time for discussion.]

"Why do you suck up? You know I'll still love you no matter what."

"Sometimes I don't understand you, Yan." He leaned in for a kiss. Our lips met, slow, gentle kisses that made me melt and my body completely relax. He moved in closer, running his hands through my hair, with them finally stopping behind my head. He paused. "I love you, you silly girl." His head tilted to the side, and his eyes narrowed at a thought of something that made him chuckle. This time he held me tight. Our lips still apart, his fingers gently tracing my cheekbone and my jaw, moving down my neck to my clavicle. Once by my shoulders, he tugs at a sleeve and bra strap so one of my shoulders is bare. He leans in to kiss the spot where my chest and neck meet. His lips grazed my neck while I tried to control my breathing. One of his hands finds a way under my shirt, and grabs my lower back, pulling myself towards him. His kisses become rougher, his body tense, while my shirt is getting partially destroyed by his efforts of taking it off.
We shift to bring the blanket on top of us, with the grass tickling my bare back and neck. He takes off his tshirt, as well, and presses his bare chest against mine.
Whatever chill there was from the moist grass soon receded as the combination of the blanket and his warm, hard body heated me up. The ultimate feeling of being one with him took over, and I have not felt like I ever wanted anything until I wanted him. Just like I have not felt pleasure until I had him within me, and I have not felt loneliness until we were two again. And like I have not felt love... until I first held him close.

The hours went by so quick that the next thing I knew, I could see the light pink and orange hue on the horizon, partially secluded by the numerous tree trunks.

We were laying under that blanket, covered in sweat and dew, skin glistening with the moisture. Shadows from the trees danced across his body as the sun slowly rose to the side of us. He pulled me close, kissed the back of my neck, traced lines on my bare torso, and then fell asleep, snoring slightly, the breath pattern shifting as he was diving into his subconsciousness, in a completely other world. I love how peaceful and sweet he looks whenever he sleeps, I could watch him all day.

I have him. He is mine. The divine combination of everything that I ever wanted in a man, and more, is holding me in his arms. It is moments like these that make me feel so asinine about ever doubting of whether what we have is real, about even wondering if it will last, thinking he would get tired of me. This brilliant, gorgeous, silly man has chosen me, of all people, to be with him.

And I wouldn't have it any other way.