Even the Leaves Fall for You

I woke up in a writing kind of mood.

Silently grabbing my guitar and trodding into the kitchen in bare feet, I sit down at the table and start playing quietly, varying between chords until I could find a sound I liked. My calloused fingers press down on the frets as I strum, letting them move to their own accord.

"That sounds nice," I hear her tell me in a sleepy voice.

I look up to catch her smiling at me as she leans against the door frame, her arms crossed. I bite my lip. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

Her smile widens. “You did. But I don’t mind being woken up to that.” She glides over to me, pressing her lips to my forehead before moving towards the fridge. “You hungry?”

I watch her as she begins to pull out different things, not even waiting for my response. The light from outside was casting a soft glow on her features, making her blonde hair look golden. My hands work a few more chords before I set down the guitar and approach her from behind, brushing her hair aside and kissing her neck. She giggles and looks at me. “Morning to you, too.”

A smirk teases my lips as my arms wrap around her waist. “Good morning.” I press my nose to her hair, breathing her in. She always had a lovely scent that I could never quite describe. There was no other smell like it; it was just hers.

She wiggles out of my arms, and I give her the space she needed to whip up whatever she thought I would like. I’d stopped resisting her cooking because as much as the idea of making her cook for me made me feel like one of those sexist boyfriends, she was just too damn good at it.

Twenty minutes later, she’s prepared a cheese omelette, toast, and some bacon. I snatch a strip and bite into it, groaning gratefully. She laughs when I devour the whole strip before serving myself more.

We seat ourselves at the table, and I watch her while she eats. Her tousled hair was perfectly disheveled, the light catching a few strands. Everything about her was so flattering. She had the softest skin I’d ever seen and even softer lips. I still wonder how I got so lucky.

She catches me staring and smiles as she chews and gulps down a bite of her toast. “What?”

I shake my head, smirking before leaning over the table to brush my lips to her forehead. “You’re just beautiful, that’s all.”

Her smile widens. “Come on, it’s nice out today.”

~

After helping her take some laundry off the clothesline, we head inside to grab a snack. I grab my guitar, before finding a nice spot in the grass in the backyard.

She brings out a bowl of strawberries, sitting down as I start to play the same chords as before. She feeds one to me and she giggles, taking a bite of her own. I chuckle, unable to suppress my smirk. I’d know that look anywhere. Whenever she got that gleam in her eye, she’d find ways to…provoke me.

"What are you thinking about?" she mumbles, wiping the corner of her mouth with her tongue.

"I should be asking you that," I tell her, grinning.

She smacks her lips, picking up another strawberry and holding it out to me. I snap at her fingers, causing her to squeal and pull back quickly, giggling again. I lay my guitar aside, kissing her cute little nose and her cheek before slowly pulling away. I never got tired of kissing her. I loved trailing all along her freckled skin, my lips pressing softly to her shoulder or her cheek or her own perfect mouth.

I lock eyes with her, a mischievous glint dancing around in her irises. She smiles and before I could lay a finger on her, she lays down in the grass, sighing. She rolls over onto her side, carelessly letting the first leaves of fall get tangled in her long hair. She starts to hum, not seeming bothered by the tiny leaves getting stuck in her wavy locks.

The sun that was cast low in the sky hit her all too perfectly, just as it always does. It was like I was seeing her in a new light all over again. Even with her hair a complete mess, she was still beautiful.

I climb on top of her and run my fingers through her soft hair. Her eyes never failed to take my breath away.

"I love you," I murmur, hiding my face in the crook of her neck.

She sighs and laces her fingers through my hair. “I love you, too, John.”

I press my lips to her throat, taking my time as I make my way up until finally reaching her mouth. She pulls me closer, her breathing even and calm.

"It’s getting dark," she whispers, biting her lip suggestively. The corners of my lips twitch and I hop up, grabbing my guitar and holding my hand out to her. I gingerly pluck the leaves and scraps out of her hair before pressing my lips hard to hers.

She giggles, taking my hand to guide me inside. Once we’re in our room, I plop down on the bed and play the chords again. She turns around and lifts her shirt over her head. I instantly harden when I realize she hasn’t been wearing a bra.

She shuts the door, and I known that was my cue to stop paying attention to my guitar alone and start paying attention to her.

~

I was determined to get this song finished. I wanted to play it for her and get her to smile that brilliant smile.

I made my way outside so much as to not wake her again. It was another beautiful morning as I sat sideways on the front porch step.

Images from last night float back to me, forcing myself to memorize the way her hair fell off her shoulders and cascaded gracefully down her bare back. I remember the way she clung to me and try to put it into words.

She pops her head out the front door and smiles. “Up this early playing again?”

I shrug, the lyrics I’d come up with in my head imprinting themselves on my brain so I wouldn’t forget later.

"Wanna hear the chorus?" I ask, grinning from ear to ear. The corner of her eyes crinkle when she nods encouragingly. "I’d love to."

Clearing my throat, I repeat the chords I’ve been playing and add in my voice, giving her my best. She starts to wiggle her hips and dance along. I feel a small smile tease my lips as I continue to sing what she didn’t know was her song yet.

I fade into a slower part of the song, making lyrics up on the spot. She slows to a stop and settles in next to me.

And your eyes shine brighter than the moon,

Your skin beats any angel’s feathers

This song is yours, my love, because look,

Even the leaves fall for you.

I repeat the verse, watching as she stares at my fingers and looking up to meet my gaze. She bites her lip and twirls her hair around her finger. I smile, strumming one last time.

I lick my lips. “Well?”

She smirks and leans in to kiss me. Her lips brush against mine and I sigh when she pulls away. “Play it again,” she whispers.

I laugh lightly. “You liked it?”

Her nose wrinkles. “Liked? More like loved.”

"It’s all yours," I murmur as I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. She rests her forehead against mine, resting a hand on my knee. "Thank you. It’s beautiful."

"You’re beautiful."

She giggles. “Don’t get all corny on me.”

I scoff, giving her a wide eyed look. “I am not corny!”

"Soooo corny," she teases, rising to her feet and beginning to walk away from me. I abandon my guitar and sneak up behind her, scooping her up. She gasps. "John!"

"I’ll give you corny, baby," I chuckle, trudging back inside with her slung over my shoulder.

She giggles, smacking my butt. “John Cornelius O’ Call-“

"Oh, hush," I tell her, pushing the bedroom door with my foot as it slowly closes behind us.