I tchh at him. Not his decision, and how could I not love him anyway? I mean, really, he is wonderful, and he is my Ankh.

That's all there is to it.

I slip in behind him again. I'll pull away if he makes it plain that he wants me to, but what I want is to hold him. For his sake, and mine.

I worm an arm under his head, smiling at the feel of his hair, so soft, so like feathers, sometimes. I wrap my other arm over his stomach, and fit myself closely to him, along his back. My heart beats against his spine.

This is where I belong.

Where he belongs, too. I hope.