I.

I wake up to the silent sounds of the city entwined with your breathing. We are still snuggled close together, trying to take in as much morning time as possible. We were both tired from last night’s engagements, you especially. You have been driving long miles practically the whole night.

You greet a throaty good morning. In between that and a lazy smile, I half expected you’d murmur instead an endearment, as you have always done rather liberally in the past. I didn’t mind, though. You stretched a little and wondered about the time, and I tell you that the next show we planned to catch would be at 12. French Film showing at the Shang today, and you’re excited to attend for the first time, and I look at you and I can’t help but just smile. It’s a rather overwhelming feeling. You twist under the covers and we spend a few more minutes filling the time with light banters and cuddles, and I think, wow, I’d want this every morning.




II.

It’s about a few minutes past twelve. A few morning mishaps occurred which forced us to stay back for a few more hours. We think about catching the 3pm screening but realize that we need more time for food. You’re finishing your hair and I’m waiting with a fresh shirt on; one from your fresh laundry. I like the consensus that I still don’t have my stuff on your place. Familiarity is nice but space is important, we both decided, and a toothbrush serves as the only object I own. You’re all dolled up in a pair of white shorts and your old checkered button-ups, something I recall you mentioned you got from the boy’s clothing department at a local mall. I feel plain and underdressed and as much as I didn’t mind the world seeing me I kind of wanted you to be proud when you hold my hand, but you look at me and you remark how I fit into your shirt nicely, and I smile shyly and you come over and give a light kiss which automatically deepens. Your shirt loosens a little and I could see your nape from where I was sitting, and we pause in the middle of everything and you look at me with such fervor and I hold my breath; I wonder how nobody could see such beauty but I think selfishly for a minute that I hope nobody does, because then, I’d be in deep trouble. I nibble on your lips for a bit and you smile mischievously, and I just love it when you do that small bite on your lips when you’re in such a playful mood and I laugh, because I knew exactly what to do from there.

A few more minutes pass and we drop your laundry off, and we’re on the highway at about 2pm. You tell me how you like the comfortable feeling you’re experiencing now. You didn’t need to do much to impress, and I tell you I enjoy you as you are. We reach the mall and we hunt for food as you were starting to get crabby; later on we decide to go for a froyo break as it has been a long time since we last had one; come to think of it, it has been a long time since we last had the time to go around the malls and spend time together. We’ve been horribly busy the past days. We play around with the toys at this hobby shop, and you pick up this ruler which wraps itself around the wrist; I offer my own and you try to snap it on my arm but I jokingly pull back, and we giggle like crazy and finally break into laughter. We walk around and meet a friend before going in line for the cinemas, and we catch the 6pm screening with another ice cream in tow.




III.

I was worried you might be getting bored, but you simply snuggled every once in a while. You give comments which show interest, and I am partly relieved; I wanted this experience to be nice enough for you. We saw a few familiar faces while waiting for the show to start, and a few nice trailers besides, but films are still a different experience.

I am half absorbed by the film and two thirds conscious of how you are. I feel a stare from my side and find you looking at me tenderly. We share a smile, and I gaze at you, and I couldn’t help but feel lucky you’re there. I remember this one time you asked me, when did I finally realize I loved you? I answered something random, but thinking about it, I’m not sure if that instance mattered. Back then, it felt selfish wanting you. But over time, it became a different definition.

Once, you asked me if I still feel unconfident about the people you have been with. I somehow couldn’t help but compare myself with them then, as these were the people you have loved. I wanted to match up, somehow. But today, looking at you looking at me like that, I feel so privileged to be given that much affection, that the only thing I had in mind is I want to make you the happiest.

I silently mouth, “I love you.” And you give that small knowing smile, and you whisper, “I love you, too.”

And I give a smile back. I’m content.