In the Wee Hours of the Morning

Friday, August 1st

"Good night," they say to each other, as they turn their backs to each other in the bed.

The night gets deep, the silence signifies peace and tranquility. And then she felt it; in the middle of the dark night he pulls her close to him and cuddles her tight. His right hand seeking her hand to hold and fit his fingers in between each of hers. The feeling fully awakens her. That is the first time she ever felt something like that. The proximity of a man's body to hers. The feeling is peculiar, thus she tried to remove herself from the cuddle but the weight of his arm would not allow her. It made him tighten his hug to her even more.

She let it be. The foreign feeling finally sets in. She liked it. And inasmuch as she wants to resist, she could not. She would not. She'd rather savor that moment, as she is not sure when it will happen again, or will it ever happen again. Hands clasping and his face snuggling her hair, and they both let the night sink in and wait for the sun to rise and shine at them.

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