It's not Hollywood romantic, lying here next to you.
For one thing, there's Moose the weiner-block, shoved up between us, zealously guarding his status as an only child. And I'm pretty sure that Hollywood would never approve a heroine wearing a breathing-mask that makes her sound like Darth Vader - whooshing breath sounds that are only drowned out by the dual snores coming from both man and Moose.
But every once in a while, when the alarm blares out, we manage to carve out 9 minutes where we are curled together in a cocoon of warmth, and I can feel our breathing in perfect unison. Your arm is protective around me, keeping back the horrors of the coming morning, and that... right there. It's not Hollywood romantic, but it's so much better.
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