A Still Frame in Time

He was completely gone. Lost in a moment. So much so that he didn't even notice the perfectly poured latte as it was placed in front of him - not smelling it's rich, thick aroma as it lingered throughout the air. He was oblivious to it, just as he was to everything else around him.

It was a single moment. Just one frame from the movie of his life.

Something he never wanted to let go of. Lying there in bed. Wind howling outside, sweeping down from the mountains and running through the streets and alleyways, causing mischief - blowing over trash bins and knocking down freshly hung linen. It was the kind of winter gusts that could stop him in his tracks. Forcing him to squint if he dared go outside.

He was cozy. Tucked beneath the loosely knit blanket and stiff, over-starched sheets. When he had first entered the room, he was a bit skeptical of what was provided. The building itself was beautiful, with a grande wooden spiral staircase leading him up to the third floor - but the room was simple. Not quaint in any understanding of the word - but comfortable. More along the lines of adequate. It had everything that was needed for a night's stay. A sink, a desk, a wardrobe - two beds. Nothing more. Nothing less. Just the right amount. But when he first entered and saw the blankets that appeared to be handmade at the turn of the century, he was skeptical of how comfortable the night would be.

It had been a long day. Full of driving. Full of walking. And by the end of it, he was tired. The soles of his feet ached, begging for rest. But as the sun fell from the sky and the city began to fall asleep around him, he too crawled underneath all the layers of his bed and all his worries drifted away.

For in that single moment, there was nothing else that could bother him. As he laid there in the dark, he couldn't help but smile. Feeling her body next to his brought the rest of the world to a stand still. She was so warm. Like a tiny heater. Radiating onto his bare skin. Warming him to the core. Making his heart glow. Although he couldn't see her, even with the help of the moonlight that was seeping in through the curtains, he imagined her. Every line. Each curve. Of her face, her cheeks, her eyelashes, the shape of her nose. They would always be there. Engraved in his mind. With each breath he could feel his body relaxing, becoming intoxicated with the smell of her hair. A mixture of flowers and fruits.

Somewhere near his hand, he could feel her twitch, lost in a deep sleep, with the occasional murmur sneaking out from between her lips, echoing out into the confinement of the room. All he wanted to do was close his eyes, drift away and join her, but he found himself fighting off the sleep every time it edged closer. He didn't want it to end. That moment. As simple as it was. One that he could linger on forever.

So when the noise of plate making contact with the table snapped him back to reality, he was disappointed. But when he looked up to see her standing over him, he realized he had nothing to worry about.

They'd have plenty more together.