Dear Diary,
He swirls his thumb around my thigh when we are in bed talking.
I could stare into his eyes forever. His eyes that have seen so much yet yield little.
He is smart and funny, more of a wise ass. Sarcastic, charming, and could probably get me to do any thing with his half grins.
He buries his face into my neck when I talk to him. His breaths tickle my neck and distract my train of thought.
His hands wander yet I don’t stiffen to his touch.
I’m typing this as he is showering because I won’t be able to think straight when he gets out.
Moments like these make me forget everything. Everything but him and how happy I am with him.
I think my serious talk about the club will wait. There is no point in ruining the now.