He had woken in the middle of the night, thirsty. He returned to their bed. He smiled as he watched her sleep, like a cat curled into a ball. Her hair fanned out on the pillow. He reached over to brush a stray bit of hair off of her face. Her skin was cool and he pulled the blanket over her. He slid back into the bed beside her.
His hand drifted over her, resting on the smooth green skin of her waist, made all the softer by the oil she used to keep herself clean. The green was soft, not like grass but of something more delicate.. When she was embarresed he could see a pink undertone light up her cheeks. Her eyes were a warm brown with bits of gold and green in them. Pinkish lips. Ebony for her hair, wavy and wild.
He held her close to him and stayed still. He could hear her heartbeat and the steady sound of her breathing. She grew restless and twisted in his arms so her cheek rested against his chest.
She trusted him. He knew for anyone to have her trust meant alot. She was vulnerable around him, and he saw a side of her no one else did. She would let herself laugh with him-sometimes at him- and he saw her for her, a young woman, not the terrorist she forced herself to be. He knew the soft, human side of her.
But she could get so mad! More than once she had kicked him out in the middle of the night after a particularly bad argument. She could be horribly sensitive and the littlest things would set her off. Or, she would go stoic, and nothing he could say would get a rise out of her, and she would maintain sarcastic and harsh.
She woke up then and seemed confused for just a moment. She looked up at him and slowly smiled, warmth filling her sleepy eyes. "Morning, my hero," her voice was rough with sleep and disuse. He kissed her and was happy for at least that moment in time.