It’s 2 am and you climb back into bed.
I awake from the movement from your side, as you slither under the covers.
I softly murmur,
“Are you okay, sweetheart?”
You tell me you’ve been anxious and unable to sleep. I take my hand and clasp it together with yours — a small gesture of love and reassurance flow through my hand and fingers tips, spilling onto yours.
“If you need anything, let me know and wake me up.”
I coo sleepily.
We squeeze our hands gently underneath the covers, knowing that nothing could destroy this tiny grasp of love.