And soon they were tangled in each other once more upon the bed. A blanket wrapped over them, through them, around them, as Katelynn’s hair clung to her wet back, wet and slick from perspiration, and some stuck to Jack’s forehead from his sweat. But neither cared, neither took much notice of such silly things.
Jack’s arms were around her, holding her in ways beyond that of normal means, beyond the blankets, maybe even their bodies. Katelynn would never have thought such affection could be real; something left to movies, books, stories of ‘true love’ and finding the one person made for you.
But it felt as if this was who he was, because that’s how he felt for her. He’d felt this way, this powerfully, that some would say it’s wrong. Opinions like those didn’t matter. He adored her. He loved her. He would die for her. He would kill for her. He would burn everything he owned if it meant her happiness, her health, her life. Somehow, she knew this. Even if he’d never said it, he prayed he never would have to, but she knew.
His hand caressed the back of her head, and she was sure she heard him whisper one last time ‘I love you’ before the anchor that was sleep dragged him down into its embrace but she, herself, was not too far behind.
Neither was far from the other, especially at moments like these.
Jack Maple 