How perfectly he encounters happiness, my grins, my “Yes”, my rage, my mood and everything that I feel.
Though he’s busy, he still keep an eye on the mess I am making, he still reads my mood, he still piss me off, & completely understands me, before even I utter a word.
How exactly he would know things though my facial expressions are normal yet he reads my annoyed and pissed off mind and head. When he does this I just can’t stop myself from clutching him to me.
And he perfectly knows what I feel, and what I get angry on. Pissed off with, he plays cool and really well making me feel everything.
There are days when he works very hard and get late home, he knows I have been waiting for him. Though after working for long hours.
Sometimes, he walks to me and recite my Favourite couplets and Poems. Making the night memorable enough through those showered smiles.
we usually have Food in the same plate, when in days we eat our dinner silently. Heading towards our bed, he either gives me Massage or hugs me so tight not letting me even move an inch, his gestures talk more than him, his love. 💕
Sometimes, he takes me to terrace where we have small tent with dim lights and cozy bed and cushions. We end up talking, giggling, loving under the sky, staring at the stars and talking to moon.
Sometimes, he lights up few candles, play some jazz and do pole dance to make me laugh, when I have had really bad day. He makes very little effort in bringing those smiles to me. How he makes me belonged, feel loved. & I wonder, if I am all worth it.
Sometimes, one red rose kills all the smaller distance and cold war that was running between us.
Sometimes, He walks in with all the excitement and hug me from behind, showering plenty of kisses & not giving a chance for me to deny. When he does this, I stop stop myself smiling though I wanted to show I am angry on my face
And sometimes, he comes with Paper in his hand, reciting a poem to me. Enacting he was busy writing it for me, though I know the paper is always empty, and all that he is reciting is on his own.
And when I am angry, and doesn’t want to talk to him, he pulls me under the cold shower, giving me chills by his looks, having perfect grip on me he pulls me close and plant peck on my forehead, when my hands reach his shoulders, he lifts me up, while my legs are around his waist. He kisses me passionately until I Choke. He touch me like water does, everywhere. He knows my weaknesses, where pleasure dribbles from, then makes his way to the Canal, osculating ever nock of mine.
O God. How truly blessed I am, to have him in my life 💕
He is my only desired home. My holiday. My poem. My desire. My love. My heart. My mere life.