Her skin is soft, soft to touch like the touch she presses against your skin, a light trail of the pad of her thumb stretching across the inside of your wrist
a subconscious move, no thought behind the action, perhaps no meaning at all behind what she is doing
her hair falls delicately over her shoulders as she swipes her thumb horizontally across your skin, once, twice, thrice
you count her ministrations in your mind like a doctor would count the beats of your heart, your heart is surely in a wild state at the overwhelming adoration you feel for the girl lay next to you
you feel content, the room could be showered and consumed by flames and yet you would only focus on her and the gentle touch of her skin on your skin and marvel over how human contact could be so wonderful.