Every Little Thing

It was not the quiet that kept her awake, her restlessness the product of her own active mind. As she lay in the stillness and the dark with his body warm beside her and his breath a gentle caress on her cheek, she recalled with perfect clarity all the tiny moments that led them to this one. Each one kept still, picture perfect in her heart forever but echoed daily in the man she loved fiercely. She knew the strength of his body beneath her hands, his love in the arms wrapped tightly around her and his soul in the shadow of his smile, half formed even in sleep. As the firelight danced over them she catalogued every little thing about him that once cause for scorn, she now she held so dear.