The Saturday Morning Sunlight

September 16, 2009

The Saturday morning sunlight snuck through the Venetian blinds and gently awoke the young lovers.  Patrick’s eyes fluttered awake and glanced over at his girlfriend Andrea, who stretched her arms, indicating that her sleep had ended as well.

“Morning,” Patrick said quietly as he rolled a lazy hand over her bare shoulder.  She shifted on her side and faced him.  She grabbed his hand and tucked it under her chin.  Strands of blonde hair swept over her face and onto his wrist.

“Morning.”

They both shut their eyes again and drifted closer together.  His arms wrapped over her body and pulled her nearer to him.  Her breath warmed the side of his neck.  They both laid there, enjoying each other’s heartbeat.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you, too.”

The silence of the room and the rhythm of their heartbeats almost lulled them back to sleep.  She squeezed him to her and nuzzled her head a little deeper in the crook of his neck.

“Andrea?”

“Hmm,” she replied, stirring herself back to the light of the room.

“Nothing,” he replied.

“What is it babe?”

“Nothing.  I just…” he trailed off.  “It’s nothing.”

“No. Come on,” she prodded.  “What is it?”

“I need you to hear something,” he said solemnly.  “I’ve been holding it back for a long time because  I thought it might upset you.”

The fresh linens on the bed seemed to flower in the sunlight, giving off the smell of summer laundry.  He released his grip on her enough so that he could tilt his neck to kiss her forehead.   She looked deep through his green eyes, trying to read his thoughts.

“Patrick. I love you,” she affirmed.  “I’m here for you.  Whatever it is that’s bothering you just let it out.”

He closed his eyes, smiled, and farted really really loud.

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