He was my soulmate. From the first day that I laid eyes on him, I knew. His brown eyes, his full lips, his mature build, everything about him was perfect. I knew he loved me, and I loved him. When we were apart, our hearts yearned for one another. My heart hurt when I thought of him without me. I never thought I’d be one of those people to fall in love so deeply, and yet, here I was.
We were lying together on my bed, my head on his chest, rising and falling to his deep breaths. I was holding his hand, thinking about us; about what we were and where we were going, and about the long future I knew we were going to have. My cold fingers grazed his thigh. He flinched.
"Sorry." I giggled, "It’s freezing."
I exhaled hot air onto my palm and then laid my hand on his chest. I rubbed it, moving from his neck to the bottom of his torso, just the way I knew he liked it.
He moaned. I smiled and went no further, not wanting to cause too much excitement. I rested my head on his heart, his stubble tickling my forehead. He usually kept a clean shave but we’d been lying together all weekend.
He said something.
I looked up past the ropes binding his neck and peeled the duct-tape from his lips.
"Yes, Dad?" I asked.
I lay the tape back.
God, I loved him.
14 December 2015