Jealousy is blind, even to our other self
"I thought of holding your hands so many times," Natha caressed my cheek, brushing strands of hair off my sweaty forehead. "Of kissing you."
"Why didn't you?"
I leaned into his touch, enjoying the slightly warm touch that made me feel like I was propelled back to the past. It was still uncomfortable, not feeling the rough texture of his real skin, especially now that I regained my cognitive back. Yet it was also nostalgic, and fun in its own way.
We were both sweaty, and satiated. Well, almost. I still wanted to go, but Natha reminded me I had to do more purification tomorrow. Oops--today. So, regretfully, we had to stop.
Aah...I didn't want to let go. I just wanted to lay in bed and bask in his presence, but he also had to go back first thing in the morning. So rather than catching up to a few hours of sleep, I told him to talk to me, saying anything.