Morning

I rub my eyes and try to push my sleep out of my eyes and open them to my dream. There’s my angel. I say to myself.

With her head rising and falling with my every breath on my chest, she had the most beautiful expression on her face. A serenity and calm on her face which whispered into my ear that, “Hey, I am finally home!”.

I tuck a stray strand of hair from her face and tuck it behind her ear and see her beautiful face. Her chin had the imprint of my shirt and cringing I reach forward and trace the pattern to which she smiled a dim smile and hugged me still in sleep.

I gently reached into my bedside drawer and removed my sketchbook and charcoal and sketched her. It was swift and quick work which traced her and then added details. High cheekbones and long chin. A long this bridge and a broad face. She resembled a violinist and her long fingers hinted that she’d be a great one too.

I keep my charcoal again in the drawer and start rubbing my finger over the coal on the paper. I began with her hair and then traced her chin. Then her bridge. The forehead. Finally I compared the sketch with her face.

Almost similar, but you won’t ever be able to capture her.

I keep my sketchbook back in the drawer and closed the door. I patted her hair for a while quietly admiring her. Her eyes and the ears. She’s just unexplainable. I pat her head and stroke her hair. Then I quietly lean forward.

Suppressing a smile I cupped my hands near her ears and whispered as lightly as I could,
“I love you a looooooooot and I know that you’re awake.”

She fluttered her eyes open and complained, “You always guess when I am awake.”
Pouting in faux anger she looked into my eyes.
“I love you a looooooooot too.” She said and again lay her head on my chest, hugging me tightly.

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