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Fuck love anyway, right?
All relationships are doomed to fail before they even start.
The next time I glance at the clock on my nightstand, I notice that it’s almost three in the morning. Where the hell did the time go?
Sliding out of bed as gently as possible, I round to his side, bending down and scooping him up into my arms.
Jesse’s not a small kind by any means. He’s just under six feet, one-hundred-and-seventy pounds of slim muscle. Yet when he’s sleeping, it’s so easy for me to hoist him up and carry him to his bedroom, just like when he was little.
His calm breaths tickle the flesh of my neck as I bring him across the hall, back into his bedroom. Laying him down on the bed, I pull the covers over his waist, giving him one last lingering glance as he lets out a purr, stretching before nestling up beneath his comforter, still lost in his slumber.
Unsure of what drives me to it, I reach down and brush my fingers through his silky blonde locks, pushing the strands of ivory from where they want to flop over his forehead. It reminds me of the times I put him to bed as a child. That’s the thought resting at the front of my mind as I leave his bedroom and go back to my own.
Crawling back into bed, I lie on my side, facing the empty spot.
And I don’t fall asleep until the pale glow of sunrise peeks through the window.
