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.