I  posted this once before but yanked it almost immediately.  Against my better judgment, here it is again. Very saccharine.  One of my first tentative steps into romance.  Not much in the way of a plot, just a little bit of fluff.  Have fun. Reviews are very welcome, flames gladly read.

            There is a sleep, that if it is not stopped forcibly, will leave the sleeper feeling as if they had slept for a year, a sleep that dwells deep in the bones, healing all ills, too deep for the fanciful pictures cut and pasted together by the conscious brain.  A sleep that refreshes like a drink of water on a blazing hot day.

            Out of a sleep like this, a young man slowly slipped back into the hectic world of wakefulness.  He found himself in a nest of blankets, not in any order, simply wrapped around and around him, better than any hospital corners on a Posture-pedic mattress.  As he looked around, he realized that something was a little different than usual.  Yes, there was his copy of The Two Towers, which he was rereading, just where Pippin and Merry met Treebeard, the Ent.  Light was streaming through his window on the eleventh floor of his apartment building, dust motes dancing in the early morning.  There was his clock radio, and the door to the bathroom.  He sighed happily, the sigh given when one knows that it is Saturday, and there is no reason to get out of the warm bed.  He smiled to himself and closed his eyes again, happy in the knowledge, that unlike poor Frodo and Sam, he could afford to snatch a bit more sleep. 

            He turned over and his eyelids came half open again.  That’s when he put his finger on what exactly was different in the sparse furnishing of his room.  He was not alone in his nest.  Raven colored hair streamed over a lump of comforter. Her eyelids twitched with the liveliness of her dreams.  Her mouth was slightly open, a row of ivory that was too straight to be altogether natural peeked out from between two soft pink lips.  In the soft light of the early morning, every little hair on her face was picked out and softened.  Her eyebrows, as dark as the cascade of silk so near, were a bit mussed, not as perfectly combed as they would have been if this had been a TV show; more human, thus more beautiful.  Long, full lashes, a boon from Mother Nature, kissed her high, prominent cheekbones.  Now, even her ears seemed perfection.

            A few freckles were spattered across the bridge of her nose, adding character to her face.  As he gazed upon her, a smile played upon his lips.  This close, he could smell her skin, mingling with the scent of her shampoo.  He propped himself up on an elbow and nudged a lock of hair off her face.  She stirred and shifted slightly.  Tendrils of the black river crept across her pillow towards him.  He tucked her in a bit more tightly, touched his lips to hers and slept, nose buried in the fragrant black tumble.

*Happy? OK. Should I never, ever do this again? Tell me, please.*