Moonlight streamed in the window, turning the bedroom to silver and shadows. Johnny was awake, tired but unable to sleep, and so he took up one of his favorite occupations - watching Sianna sleep. Her skin was luminous in the moonlight, dark lashes curled on her cheeks, and her lips were slightly parted. In sleep she looked younger, vulnerable in a way she rarely did awake. He sometimes thought he lived for these small moments in time, and his lips curved up in a smile as he watched her silently.
She stirred slightly, her lips forming a tiny pout, before turning on her side towards him. Hands lightly clasped were nestled between pillow and cheek, a contented sleepy sigh escaping as sleep guided her back into its depths. Her hair was a tumultous cascade and thick sheaves of curls extended every which way and the sheet has somehow managed to work its way down to her waist, her thin nightgown her only covering.
His smile deepened at the little pout on her lips as she turned towards him, casting her face into the shadows. The moonlight caught in her hair, curls lit with the silver glow, and he couldn't resist reaching out to brush some of the tangled mass lightly back from her face. Gentle fingers lingered on her cheek for a moment before his hand slid lightly down, barely brushing over her skin, to come to rest at her waist where the sheet crossed the fabric of her nightgown.
In her dream they were swinging in a hammock, an enormous pair of oaks anchoring it securely, the soft sound of running water from a hidden brook or creek the underlying thrum to the twitter of songbirds. Things kept slipping in and out of focus before his fingertips brushed her skin just as she dreamed it, the added dimension of reality causing her to call out his name tenderly, "Johnny..."
He chuckled quietly, the noise barely audible in the quiet of the stillness of the room, a rumble more vibration than true sound. Whether she said it waking or sleeping, he loved hearing his name on her lips, in her sweet voice. He lifted his hand from her waist to brush it lightly over her face again, tracing along the curve of her jaw. If she slept, it wouldn't disturb her, and he couldn't resist reaching out at the soft call.
She stirred slightly, her lips forming a tiny pout, before turning on her side towards him. Hands lightly clasped were nestled between pillow and cheek, a contented sleepy sigh escaping as sleep guided her back into its depths. Her hair was a tumultous cascade and thick sheaves of curls extended every which way and the sheet has somehow managed to work its way down to her waist, her thin nightgown her only covering.
His smile deepened at the little pout on her lips as she turned towards him, casting her face into the shadows. The moonlight caught in her hair, curls lit with the silver glow, and he couldn't resist reaching out to brush some of the tangled mass lightly back from her face. Gentle fingers lingered on her cheek for a moment before his hand slid lightly down, barely brushing over her skin, to come to rest at her waist where the sheet crossed the fabric of her nightgown.
In her dream they were swinging in a hammock, an enormous pair of oaks anchoring it securely, the soft sound of running water from a hidden brook or creek the underlying thrum to the twitter of songbirds. Things kept slipping in and out of focus before his fingertips brushed her skin just as she dreamed it, the added dimension of reality causing her to call out his name tenderly, "Johnny..."
He chuckled quietly, the noise barely audible in the quiet of the stillness of the room, a rumble more vibration than true sound. Whether she said it waking or sleeping, he loved hearing his name on her lips, in her sweet voice. He lifted his hand from her waist to brush it lightly over her face again, tracing along the curve of her jaw. If she slept, it wouldn't disturb her, and he couldn't resist reaching out at the soft call.