What do you look for in a romantic partner?
Curled up against Smith's back, with her arms around his waist, listening to his soft breathing as he slept, Àille just smiled softly. She'd just crawled back in bed after feeding, changing and getting the twins back in their crib (it was his turn next) and she couldn't help but think about how lucky she was. He was everything she had ever wanted in a man. Kind, generous, loving and gentle, plus so much more.
He was physically different from her first real love, smaller, a little stalker and definitely not as strong because he hadn't the decade of daily battle training behind him, yet he was perfect in every way. Running her hand along his flat stomach, she could feel the muscles underneath; though not defined they were perfect.
He understood her. They could sit and talk for hours and the conversation never grew old... he'd held her when she cried and would let her do the same with him. He loved her for who she was, even though he knew she wasn't all happiness and light inside. Hadn't rejected her because of her dark side, but instead pulled her all the closer. And she knew he wasn't crazy (though some times she teased him that he was, for loving her). How could she not accept him for who he was in return?
He made her whole day brighten up, just by smiling at her. Cared for her when she was bed ridden for months on end, even when she was a less than willing patient. And he still did little romantic things, like weave flowers into her hair while she was breast-feeding, just because he knew she liked them. Brought her fresh fruit to eat in the morning instead of the packaged, normal breakfast items. Kissed her right behind her left ear, just to hear a giggle.
Kissing the back of his neck and snuggling in closer, she closed her eyes with a smile playing on her lips. Who ever said romance was dead?
He was physically different from her first real love, smaller, a little stalker and definitely not as strong because he hadn't the decade of daily battle training behind him, yet he was perfect in every way. Running her hand along his flat stomach, she could feel the muscles underneath; though not defined they were perfect.
He understood her. They could sit and talk for hours and the conversation never grew old... he'd held her when she cried and would let her do the same with him. He loved her for who she was, even though he knew she wasn't all happiness and light inside. Hadn't rejected her because of her dark side, but instead pulled her all the closer. And she knew he wasn't crazy (though some times she teased him that he was, for loving her). How could she not accept him for who he was in return?
He made her whole day brighten up, just by smiling at her. Cared for her when she was bed ridden for months on end, even when she was a less than willing patient. And he still did little romantic things, like weave flowers into her hair while she was breast-feeding, just because he knew she liked them. Brought her fresh fruit to eat in the morning instead of the packaged, normal breakfast items. Kissed her right behind her left ear, just to hear a giggle.
Kissing the back of his neck and snuggling in closer, she closed her eyes with a smile playing on her lips. Who ever said romance was dead?