I felt his eyes on me before I saw them. He had a way of doing that - penetrating my being with just a passing glance. I sighed and gazed over at him, watching how he bit his lip ever so slightly as he read, his toes wiggling unconsciously.

Amazing, isn't it, that when you're in love with a person even their toes are insanely adorable?

My eyes slide over his body, in awe of what a beautiful man he's grown into. I can still vividly remember the days when he was a tiny sprite of a child, and here he was beside me, an uttering stunning man. His skin was lightly tanned and I could see the rise and fall of his stomach in accordance to his breathing, and my own breath caught in my throat. This is what I'm supposed to be... all this, it's mine, and I'm his, and this is all I've ever longed for, and it's finally here for me. I'm finally here.

God, he was perfect.

Not wanting to disturb him, but wanting so desperately to be enveloped in his warmth, I crawled slowly over to him, sliding against the curve of his body. He smiled lazily, tagging the corner of his page, and set the book down, opening his arms for me.

I love you, Jordan Taylor Hanson.

I felt his lips press into my forehead softly, the way he always kissed me, and I sighed contently. Resting my head on his chest, I inhaled deeply, intoxicated by his scent.

"You smell good," I whispered gently, grinning lazily against the thin layer of cotton.

He laughed and I felt the deep rumble in his chest, my hands wrapping around him slowly. "What? You do."

"You're beautiful," he replied, stroking a long slow finger along my jaw in contemplation.

And again I felt as though this is what I was meant to be. His. In his arms, in this way, for all of my life.

This is home.