There’s life in the way he looks at her, across a landscape of sheets and pillows. The way he links his fingers between hers and gently slides them along her jaw line. The way he envelopes her, embraces her and adores her. It’s all she’s ever desired. Amongst the mountains of blankets, and the patterned lines of light from the crack in the curtains- there she lays; delicate, precious and alive. Not because she is breathing, not because her heart is beating- but because of the way he looks at her, when they’re alone; intertwined.