Joy

When Lina said ‘yes’ to that first real date, Steven thought that he might burst with joy - and relief. He became a walking cliche - colours were brighter, sounds sharper and every moment was worth so much more.

When she first kissed him, he realised that he had never been kissed before. This - this - was a kiss. Not just a meeting of lips and tongues, but instead a meeting of souls, a melting of people. A kiss to get lost in, to savour and feel through every part of his body. She was perfect in every way - even her annoyances were just right and, for once, something that he could see was necessary to fill and complete the whole. She fitted - into his life and into his body. They fitted perfectly - that was his ridiculous thought that very first time when, propped on locked arms, he looked down deep into her shining, smiling, eyes. Perfection - in the moment and in her.

He tried to savour moments with her, but so often other things - stupid, meaningless, things - got in the way. Being late, being early, forgetting things, losing things. None of those things matters, of course he knew that. But each was allowed to get in the way - and now, from the harbour of memory - each was a sad stab.

There were particular havens of joy to remember.

White sheets, white walls, white light streaming into the room. Warmth from the sun, heated higher as it passed barred through the tall glass windows. Colours bouncing off covers that had been thrown to the floor in a giggling tangle of legs. Wakefulness comes slowly and gently, suggesting rather than demanding. A white reality that needs to be examined as all good things are - warily.

She is there. A tangle of dark hair on his shoulder and a small body pressed gently towards his.

Perfect.

This is not the first time - far from it. And there, in part, is the perfection. Reality and knowledge merged with surprise and discovery.

He feels her breathing. Slowly and with a delicious rhythm, his own matching with hers automatically. His left arm is wrapped around her, propping her in place and protecting her from the rest of the world.

As consciousness comes to him, he takes in the room and the light and the warmth. And the perfectness of her as part of him. The two together now just as they had been in that moment before sleep calmed them both. It was this gentleness, though, rather than the energetic breathlessness that was so right.

There was an impetus to start the day. He was awake and what happened now was getting-up things, movement and action. All of those things grabbed at him and demanded acknowledgment.

Which he did - and then relaxed again to pillow his love and to revel in the feel of her beside him.

The memory of that joy added to it - just as the fact that it was only a memory, ached to his core.