Anthelion

I was afraid.

I was afraid that I would lose her somehow, or that she would never want to see me. And there was a part of me that didn't want her to see me, but the bigger part of me wished that she wanted to see me.

Why would she want to see me?

I remained in the closet for quite a while; I could see the light from outside come and go through a crack at the bottom of the door.

I could still hear her voice through the door and I was grateful. It was slightly muffled, but I was able to get the gist of it, nonetheless. So, I sat there, staring at the door, listening to her, and wishing with everything that I had to be able to see her and to feel the exquisite warmth of her downy skin.