She look at him in the darkness. The heat of his body hadn’t cooled down yet. His breathing was slow and childlike now. The weight of his shin on her foot.
The cars drove through puddles. A clocked ticked 10 feet away. Her only light was an abstract reflection on the ceiling.
She leaned closer to him, her hand under his chest. The smell of soap from an hour ago (or was it two?) had been adulterated with saltier, tangier elements.
For a second she refused to acknowledge, she wanted to push herself apart and sleep on her own. On a less sweaty bed after a bath.
Then she buried her nose in his cheek.
Years of distances and awkwardnesses vanished. Her lip found the corner of his. Like forgiveness. Like a fruit of patience. The reality and the softness of his body made her heart beat itself against her lungs. Beat till it burst or beat till her lungs gave way. Beat more than it would in the moments that they loved each other’s bodies.
She closed her eyes and fell asleep – out of exhaustion and relief.
An hour later, he fell asleep too.