Creative

Sally loved the creative part of her job, but sitting on Calvin’s couch with her MacBook on her lap she was not thinking about her work. She was thinking that she loved him, and she wanted to say it in a creative way but she was going to settle for right now.

He was in the kitchen with an apron about this waist and he looked so serious. He was serious about food preparation, she learned that at his bar and in his home. The apartment always smelled unbelievable from his culinary inventions, and needless to say, there was always a wine that blew her mind. She had just put down a glass from almost before she was born. He was not so precious about wine that he would not savor something priceless every now and then.

She stood in front of him, and thought to herself there she was in her sweatpants, no makeup, and her hair tangled. What did she look like to him in front of him like that? 

His silent answer was to rim the band of her sweats with his fingers and use the elastic to pull her pelvis close to him. He kissed her neck and slipped his whole hand into the front of her sweatpants. Sally moved against his fingers until he rubbed the wet core of her. A physical and emotional flood washed over her, and she wrapped her arms around his neck.

“I love you,” she said and watched his face to see what he was thinking.

“I know,” he said and nuzzled her. “I knew when you did not tell me you loved me, that you loved me.”

She nodded because he was right. She could smell her scent on his fingers when he hugged her, and she could smell her love right song with it. She had told him that she loved him because she could not keep it inside a moment longer, it scared and thrilled her. Being close to him though made her happier than she had been in a very long time, and if it was temporary it could burst at some point if it had to. But being in their bubble now was all that mattered.

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