Legit touch starved to the point where I will weep if someone even accidently bumps into me. :)))))))

him.

I love him when he comes home from work and rushes to give me a peck on my cheek, no matter how tired he is. I love him when he gets me food and a glass of water, when I’m working and I forget to eat. I love him when he covers us with a blanket and drapes his hand over me when I’m half asleep. I love him when I’m under him, our bodies intertwined, and he switches on the light to see me; telling me how beautiful I am, as I surrender myself to the rhythm he sets for me, leaving marks on his back as a sign that he’s mine.

But most of all? I love him for making me feel wanted; for making me feel like I matter. He doesn’t promise to bring me the moon and stars, but he lights up my life more than all the stars in the night sky. We have fights, we disagree, but one look at him and my heart melts. He made me believe in myself; believe in the good in the world.

I am his, as he is mine.