Status: slowly being updated.
My Hero.
My Hero - six.
I lay down on his side of the bed and rested my head on his pillows. He had such a strange order to them.
"I dunno how I'll manage in the field," he would laugh, as he made the bed every morning as I made breakfast. I would reply that he could borrow mine and he would kiss me and ask how long until breakfast was ready.
Smiling softly, I arranged the pillows just how he liked. The feather pillow on the bottom, then the other, diagonally left, then the third, diagonally right. "When I'm really exhausted, I sleep on the left," he would explain to the people who hadn't had us over to stay, "and when I'm just sleepy, I lie on the right. I've done it since I was a little lad." He didn't plan it this way, it was just how he slept, so it was just how he arranged his pillows.
Stroking the uppermost pillow, I buried my face in it. His musky scent lingered on it. I closed my eyes and hugged the pillow, seeing his face beaming at me in my mind's eye. Tears fell onto his pillow and I wiped my face, sniffing. I took a deep breath, then put the pillow back, frowning at the state of the room. Clothes all over the floor, an empty mug on the dresser, the bedlinen undone and half coming off. I was usually compulsively neat but today, I couldn't make the bed, not just yet.
I stroked his picture, gazing into his deep brown eyes that always seeming to be laughing for a moment, and then, feeling the need to do something - anything - I opened the curtains, allowing a flood of bright sunlight into the bedroom.
I squinted, turning from the harsh light.
I could now clearly see the dust in the room, and made a mental note to dust the room later.
My foot brushed against something and I nearly tripped, grabbing onto the bedpost.
I looked down and saw a pair of Andy's jeans.
"I'm so sorry, darling," I apologised, picking them up and feeling suddenly guilty. I folded them and replaced them in his wardrobe. His scent was stronger here, it clung to his clothes. I stepped inside, a reasonably easy thing to do, as he didn't have a box of shoes on his floor. His shoes and a few of my every day pairs were kept in a cupboard under the stairs. I slid down the wall, hugging my knees to my chest, and simply breathed him. I felt immediately comforted, calmed - loved. I tugged his long winter coat from its peg and wrapped it around me, letting tears fall freely down my face.
"I dunno how I'll manage in the field," he would laugh, as he made the bed every morning as I made breakfast. I would reply that he could borrow mine and he would kiss me and ask how long until breakfast was ready.
Smiling softly, I arranged the pillows just how he liked. The feather pillow on the bottom, then the other, diagonally left, then the third, diagonally right. "When I'm really exhausted, I sleep on the left," he would explain to the people who hadn't had us over to stay, "and when I'm just sleepy, I lie on the right. I've done it since I was a little lad." He didn't plan it this way, it was just how he slept, so it was just how he arranged his pillows.
Stroking the uppermost pillow, I buried my face in it. His musky scent lingered on it. I closed my eyes and hugged the pillow, seeing his face beaming at me in my mind's eye. Tears fell onto his pillow and I wiped my face, sniffing. I took a deep breath, then put the pillow back, frowning at the state of the room. Clothes all over the floor, an empty mug on the dresser, the bedlinen undone and half coming off. I was usually compulsively neat but today, I couldn't make the bed, not just yet.
I stroked his picture, gazing into his deep brown eyes that always seeming to be laughing for a moment, and then, feeling the need to do something - anything - I opened the curtains, allowing a flood of bright sunlight into the bedroom.
I squinted, turning from the harsh light.
I could now clearly see the dust in the room, and made a mental note to dust the room later.
My foot brushed against something and I nearly tripped, grabbing onto the bedpost.
I looked down and saw a pair of Andy's jeans.
"I'm so sorry, darling," I apologised, picking them up and feeling suddenly guilty. I folded them and replaced them in his wardrobe. His scent was stronger here, it clung to his clothes. I stepped inside, a reasonably easy thing to do, as he didn't have a box of shoes on his floor. His shoes and a few of my every day pairs were kept in a cupboard under the stairs. I slid down the wall, hugging my knees to my chest, and simply breathed him. I felt immediately comforted, calmed - loved. I tugged his long winter coat from its peg and wrapped it around me, letting tears fall freely down my face.