We go to bed together but Sam often falls asleep before me, and I have taken to looking at him before I follow into slumber. I lie there in the tepid yellowness of the lampnight and I just look at him.
He is so beautiful. Delicate and beautiful. He is soft and strong. Every curve, every hair, every crease, every flutter, every dreaming start. He has his mother’s straight nose and mouth, and he frowns like her too. I’d go as far as to say that his quietly effeminate features are what makes him all the more beautiful to me.
Each night I think I could kiss him all over when he is like this, but I would not dare disturb this carefully laid scene. So I fall asleep beside him instead. Slowly, though. And happy to be by his side.
