“I didn’t know,” I whispered and looked away. He pulled my face back towards him with his calloused fingers. “Don’t be afraid to look at me...” he pleaded in a soft voice. At that I began to softly cry. He lay off to my side and just held me close, never letting go. * I laid there holding the woman of my dreams as she slept. In her sleep she smiled and whispered my name several times. It made my heart skip a beat when she did. The rain never let up. But eventually I had to get up to put. I sat up a little, with his help, immediately feeling a slight buzz of excitement as his hands held my arms, to brace me. He looked tired. I unconsciously moved my hand, not noticing that I was touching his face until I could feel his dark squared jaw in my palm. ‘You should sleep…’ I said. ‘In French…’ he corrected. The spell was broken. I searched my mind for the right words. After a minute had passed, I gave up, settling for a simple, ‘Bonne nuit.’ As I moved to stand, I knocked my book. More

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