21Naturals
Alyssa Reece, Raul Costa Pic(s)
The first golden rays of dawn spilled across the tangled sheets, illuminating the fine dust motes dancing in the still air like tiny, suspended embers. A deep, languid warmth radiated from the sleeping form beside me, a heat that had nothing to do with the new day and everything to do with the memory of the night just passed. My fingertips traced the path the light was taking, following the gentle slope of a shoulder blade, feeling the smooth, living marble beneath the skin. The scent of us, a mingled fragrance of salt, sleep, and the faint, sweet perfume of skin, rose from the pillows in an intoxicating cloud. A soft sigh escaped parted lips, a sound that was both an end to dreams and a quiet invitation for the day to begin slowly. I let my palm rest flat agat the small of the back, feeling the steady, slow rhythm of a heartbeat that was not my own, a primal and comforting drum. The light grew bolder, gilding the curve of a hip and catching in the dark, tousled strands of hair spread across the pillow. Every sense was amplified, from the whisper of cotton agat bare legs to the taste of morning on my own tongue. In that hushed, gilded space, the world outside ceased to exist, and there was only this shared heat, this silent, perfect communion of two bodies bathed in the day’s first, gentle fire.
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