Never mind his awkward hands, never mind his graceless face, when she closes her eyes she feels the strength of his arms around her. She can sense the warmth through his skin and the repetitive stump made by his heart beating faster as she comes near.
There has never been another moment she had wanted to live. For now, they are reunited. She tried many times to capture how he would look like, how he would smell, how it would be in his arms. It was a blur. As much as she tried to concentrate and depict the lines of his face, the colour of his hair, the shape of his mouth; she never came close.
He is not what she imagined him to be. For years she had been wanting to “feel at home” in his arms. Absorbed by his scent, the rhythm of his breathing, she closes her eyes and impregnates her body with his, just in case. Just in case this was not real.
Tomorrow will be another day, another chance for him to change his mind on how he feels about her, a new opportunity to find another woman to embrace. She doesn’t know what day or time it is, she forget where she is, if her feelings are real or playing a mascaraed.
She follows his movements, mirrors his gestures,  searches desperately for reassurance in the nook in his arms. As long as he holds her close, she will be his.