Silky skeins of amber light weaving a web of light and shadows across her bed, across her back, as she lay asleep, lost.
His warm fingers itching to get lost in that web of light, fingers warmer than sun kissed sand when he noticed her feet peeking out from beneath the sheets.
Feet, whose soles were pale and toes, which were struggling with the sheet, searching for warmth...searching for his hands.
His hands took and then rubbed first one foot and then the other. Rubbed them to warmth, rubbed them to rosy reds.
As she lay there being rubbed and warmed, she thought to herself, this is what love is all about, someone to rub your feet when they are cold. While he felt his heart swell, thinking…this must be love, when your hands alone are more precious and sought than the sun itself.
She is the country he is meant to shine upon, as he is the sun she is lost without.
Too simplistic? Perhaps…but what more is there to it?