There's gonna come a day when you'll feel better
You'll rise up free and easy on that day
You'll rise up free and easy on that day
Curled around and slumped against her, you do indeed fall swiftly to sleep. What can you say? Her breasts are exemplary, and the beat of her heart plus the surge of the water would likely send you off to sleep even if you weren't stone cold drunk.
At some point you wake up enough to lie down, pulling her with you onto the firm dock. Your arms stay around her - you're not letting go - and through the haze of your sleep-and-booze addled brain she feels like the only solid thing in a listing world. "Don' disappear," you mumble sweetly into her hair, sighing softly, bringing her close, before falling back asleep.
Is the roof leaking? That's your first question on waking to drops of water on your face. Second question: what am I holding?
Third question: What have I done?
Almond eyes blink slowly open, squinting against the light. And the rain- light now in the early morning, but the threat of a deluge looms on the horizon. And yet you're surprisingly warm, the body next to you radiating heat.
Her body.
Oh gods.
Gently, quietly, you begin to disentangle yourself for her, wincing at the pain to your arm (sleeping on a hard dock? Somehow not a great idea, come the light of day). Whether or not you want to wake her is unclear even to you; for now you're focused on making sense of your swimming memory and trying to figure out how much of yesterday was a dream.
At some point you wake up enough to lie down, pulling her with you onto the firm dock. Your arms stay around her - you're not letting go - and through the haze of your sleep-and-booze addled brain she feels like the only solid thing in a listing world. "Don' disappear," you mumble sweetly into her hair, sighing softly, bringing her close, before falling back asleep.
Is the roof leaking? That's your first question on waking to drops of water on your face. Second question: what am I holding?
Third question: What have I done?
Almond eyes blink slowly open, squinting against the light. And the rain- light now in the early morning, but the threat of a deluge looms on the horizon. And yet you're surprisingly warm, the body next to you radiating heat.
Her body.
Oh gods.
Gently, quietly, you begin to disentangle yourself for her, wincing at the pain to your arm (sleeping on a hard dock? Somehow not a great idea, come the light of day). Whether or not you want to wake her is unclear even to you; for now you're focused on making sense of your swimming memory and trying to figure out how much of yesterday was a dream.
And float from branch to branch, lighter than the air
Just when that day is coming, who can say?
Just when that day is coming, who can say?
zephyr
