She knows that I am a writer and she calls me her Cyrano de Bergerac, allowing me to flirt with her all the time and I refer to her as the Quiet One, because she never has much to say. I met her in the library where she worked, as she told me to be quiet because people were reading. I apologized for being so rude and I asked her if she would like to have dinner with me. We didn’t talk much, but we just seemed to complete each other like Jack Sprat and his wife did. We are not two pees in the same pod and just as life is filled with positive experiences, it is also contains those nasty speed bumps, difficulties, and troubles along the way, but together, we are able to get through all that stuff. We are each missing certain parts in our personalities, but what I am lacking, she has and vice versa and because we have each other, that completes the puzzle, thus the whole is greater than the sum of its parts.
Talking is over rated and we have the language of love that thrives in the comfort of intimacy. A girl that is quiet, isn’t always shy, she is just not saying that much, and I am fine with that. She is a very sensitive women that tends to be in-tune and aware of the details and subtleties that are all around her. She has this power over me and I willingly surrender my body to the flames of passion when we are together. We both enjoy pillow talk, having those private conversations between the sheets in our bed. She has this special way of groaning out her pleasure that always lets me know that she enjoys what I am doing and that makes me feel very satisfied. Her soft moans in bed have this way of increasing my confidence and this is what contributes to our lovemaking becoming so special.
Written for the Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Sunday Writing Prompt of The Quiet One which is hosted by Sara from relaxitsallwrite.