You stretched, half clad in the sheets of our bed, and an involuntary gasp left your lips in a soft, gentle breath.

I watched in silent torment as I fought to tear my gaze away from the tantalizing shape of your body, pulling me in, lulling me to come closer. And as you opened sleepy eyes, staring into the eighth hour of my thoughtful company, your lips tugged into a drowsy smile.

"I'm tired." you said. Lazy words went with lazy fingers, fluttering over the bedspread in search for mine.

A smirk appeared on my face when I felt the soft collision of your fingers into my palm. "I can tell." I said.

We were whispering because everyone else was asleep - it seemed only us two had a reason to be awake. You spent the bulk of this time with your eyes closed, and all the while I traced the lines of your face with the invisible apparatus of my eyesight. I took the fall from your nose to your brow, and counted the eyelashes that rimmed closed lids.

It was then that your eyes opened, emerging from black curtains and wistful thoughts. You saw me looking at you, and in playful response, I winked.

Dimples deepened your cheeks as tender lips smiled back at me. "What?" you demanded.

"Nothing." was my automatic reply. My automatic lie.

And your eyebrows raised ever so slightly, your smile shifted ever so slowly - I held my breath. "No, tell me." you said again.

"Well . . ." I started, unsure of where this was headed. Well, you have three types of smiles that are all a different type of beautiful. You send shivers down my back with a single look, from eyes that are glazed with calm. You're serene like water in an untouched pond, equipped with a laugh that flows like music from piano-fingers. You've got ideas that you can't comprehend, notions that are beyond my eyes. You've got skin that screams for touch, lips that call for their fleshy kin; an open invitation that my heart hasn't the bravery to accept. Well, I love you.

I smiled. "Nothing."