He says everything with his eyes.  I find the answers to all of my unspoken questions there.

I can fool myself into believing that the accidental-on-purpose brush of my ass against his groin, the goose-bump-inducing whisper close to my ear, or his magnificent form is what gets me flushed and excited, but really… it’s his eyes.

They speak without a voice, those eyes.  They connect me with an unseen part of him that he protects from the everyday world – maybe even from himself.

A softness lives in all of his strength – a vulnerability that draws me in and holds me close, and I can feel the wild beating of his heart against my cheek as I bury my face in his chest enough to be swallowed up in it.

He is my hero – my safety – my sanity in a crazy world.  My heart rests in his strong hands, and I trust him with it fearlessly – no one else.

And his eyes tell me the story I’ve longed to hear my whole life.

But of all the parts I love and admire, his soul is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever known.