Seasonal Ink

I feel it in my fingers,
I feel it in my toes,
Christmas is all around me,
And so the feeling grows…. 

He had a long day in the office. She had a bad day in class. Both were silent, though tense from the day’s stress. As the music blared in the background, she took hold of his hand, and they both twirled slowly to the tune. Slowly, she slumped her shoulders and leaned against his chest. He ran his fingers through her soft hair, and patted her head as though to say, “it’s alright, I’m here for you”. The music entered its chorus, and his leg hit the frame of the bed.

You know I love Christmas
I always will
My mind’s made up
The way I feel
There’s no beginning
There’ll be no end
‘Cos on Christmas
You can depend…

Soft orange glow lit up the otherwise dark room, the sun throwing its warmth through the curtain and translated into orange stripes on the cupboard, the walls, the bed and on the two figures at the edge of the mattress. She propped herself carefully on his lap, arms around his neck, stroking his hair. She laid her eyes on the love of her life and knew that there could be no other being that could be more beautiful than him.

With one hand wrapped protectively around her waist, he allowed the other to sneak up her chest as he kissed her neck softly, and then with pressure. He knew what she liked. As a soft moan escaped her lips, he lowered his lips to her collarbones, down to the curve of her breast and lingered there for a moment until she shuddered. She began to wrap her arms around him to pull him closer, and all he could do was to nibble on her ear before finding his niche on the curve of her neck, the shoulder blade, to nuzzle, to kiss, until he excites her enough to have her nimbly unbuttoning his shirt.

His solace.  Her comfort.

It’s written on the wind
It’s everywhere I go
So if you really love me
C’mon and let it snow
C’mon and let it snow…