Tangled

The feel of a hand tangled in my hair is what wakes me the first time.

I turn as much as I dare in the single bed and take a moment to study your sleeping form. So beautiful and fast asleep, your hand a fist in my hair as if you're scared even in your sleep to let me go. You've thrown the blankets off you some time during the night but your leg is flung across mine, claiming me and pinning me down.

I don't care.

I kiss you gently and you don't wake. I lay back down and glance at the clock. It's early yet and we've got plenty of hours before we have to wake up and pretend we slept in seperate beds. I don't want to sleep, I want to enjoy every moment of being with you. But I can feel sleep claiming me, and I'm no longer scared of the nightmares now.

For now I'm just here in bed, tangled up in you. And it's perfect.