If the feeling I had then were real, you would've been lying here next to me right now. You would’ve been sleeping on your belly and your black, wild hair – with a texture I would’ve recognized amongst a thousand others – would've been a beautiful contrast against the white background. The sunlight would’ve hit your bare back and shown the lines of muscles, playing beneath your skin as you changed your position in your sleep.
Carefully I would've placed my fingertips on your ribs and on the scar I happened to give you. I have almost forgotten what it looks like. You would’ve awake and make a sigh of delight, just like you did every morning when I scratched your back or your arms, or pulled my finger through your hair. You loved it. You would’ve opened your eyes and stare right through me with your gaze.
Those bright, green and almost unlikely beautiful eyes are one thing I’ll never forget. And you would’ve smile when you saw me – you always fired away an almost boyish smile which made my heart skip thirteen beats. Then you would’ve pulled me close to you, been giving me a kiss and say “good morning, beautiful” before you would’ve lay down on my chest and rip your arms around me.
And you shouldn’t have let me go.
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