When in love... Do as lovers do #1

The sun is shining through the linen curtains when I awake in our little bit of paradise.

He's left me sleep in again, which I hate him doing because my time here is so precious and I don't want to spent it sleeping.

He's on the balcony drinking coffee. I can just about see his shaddow reflected on the drapes. They'll be a cup there for me too, there always is.

"Morning" he murmers as I shuffle out onto the balcony in one of his vests I found discarded on the floor between here and the bed; "last day today..." This was his way of saying that he'll miss me.

"Mmm..." I groan back, squinting as I try to adjust to the blinding tropical sun. 

I stretch myself into awakeness, reaching out and scratching the top of his head in the process. 

He states up at me, smiling out of the side of his mouth and using his head to beckon me over.

I take my usually morning position on his lap, pulling my knees up to my chest and resting my feet on the gap of chair between his legs. 

Sinking in to his loving embrace, I close my eyes and rest my head on his shoulder; attempting to stop a single tear from crawling down my face.

I couldn't tell you if it would be a tear of pure happiness and bliss, or a tear of devastating sadness that it will all be over soon.

He gently kisses my shoulder and neck before resuming his coffee slurping and I do the same.

We sit for a while, quietly muttering about the events of the day ahead, both shrugging at suggestions for dinner plans.

"Right, I need a shower" I proclaim as I ease myself off him and start moving towards the door. 

"Not looking like that you're not." He's referring to what I'm wearing, grabbing the inside of my leg and pulling me back towards him, only to stand up and kiss me. Passionately, as always, because I don't think there is any other way for us to kiss.

With one hand running through my hair and the other clutching my bare bottom, he guides me back through the French doors and picks me up like a rag doll. I wrap my legs round his waist and throw my head back in giggles, he always liked me in nothing but one of his vests. 

After, we lie on the floor of our tiled apartment, my body flat on top of his as I stroke his hair up from his face as his runs his hands up and down my back. 

"Hey..." I say, only half looking at him, "I love you."

Whispering this, my eyes dart to his to see if he is as equally shocked by what I've just said.

Nothing. His face remains still; his blue/grey eyes staring back at me.

"I love you too."

.... And then we smile.