This may become a regular thing, depending on how often I scribble stuff down at three in the morning.
He remembered the weight of a finger lightly pinning his lips to his front teeth.
He remembered a crooked smile peeking out from behind the dark locks tumbling over her face.
He remembered smooth skin and a hip bone beneath his palm, while his other hand dangled in the cool air off the edge of the bed.
He remembered a breath rushing into his lungs like a prodigal returning home.
Be still, she said, but his heart refused to listen.