The bed wasn't big by any means, I could've easily stretched myself across the entirety of it and she would still find a perfect spot to curl up next to me.
Her hair was funny.
I would wake to see traces of brownish blonde hair before anything else. It would tickle my nose as I breathed deeply, taking in her scent and letting it remind me that I'm awake.
A feeling would go through me as I see her there, snuggled up against me. A warm heat that quickly spreads and turns into a dull ache. Sometimes it would pass. Sometimes I would forget it by pulling her close and breathing. She smelled like shade on a hot summer day.
Sometimes I couldn't handle the feeling, like having her was too much.
I worried about her. I worried about what she would give up, being with me, as well as whether or not she was happy. I worried so much.
When I held her, she felt so small, as if she would be lost by morning if I didn't keep hold through the night. So small, that one day I might lose her, and in a way lose myself.
I wondered if there is any reason for her to wake.