In Bed with Eddings

It’s you and me, baby. 

Curled up in bed as we have, many many times before, tucked under my sheets right before bedtime. 

I’m closing my eyes as I let you tell me your story. You catch my imagination as always – it’s in the rise and fall of your storytelling, and I am captivated by the characters that you tell. I am there with them from beginning to end, drawn in by the tapestry of the scenes. 

You never fail to draw me in. 

I am all too aware of my breathing, all too aware the narrowing gap between us. I am aware of my desperation, a desperation born of impatience. I do not know what sorcery this is, and how you manage to lure me into bed every single time, lull me beyond any sleepiness I might have to spend time with you instead, but you have me under your spell. 

And under that spell I’ll stay.