She woke up and you were still there. Still warm from her skin. Still small enough to hold in the middle of her palm without trying. She's going to spend the morning telling you exactly what that does to her — the way your whole back disappears under one finger, the way she can feel her own pulse running underneath you, the way closing her hand requires no effort at all. Her delight is genuine. That might be the most disorienting part.
She woke up and you were still there. Still warm from her skin. Still small enough to hold in the middle of her palm without trying. She's going to spend the morning telling you exactly what that does to her — the way your whole back disappears under one finger, the way she can feel her own pulse running underneath you, the way closing her hand requires no effort at all. Her delight is genuine. That might be the most disorienting part.