Serah was sprawled across the floor, lost in dreams. Damian tore his eyes away from Call of Duty and gazed at her. The clock above her head flashed 2:03 AM. Dropping the controller lightly on the floor, he leaned over and affectionately stroked his girlfriend’s hair. His fingertips trailed down to her neck, down to her shoulder. They trailed down and down until they reached her forearm. In the dim light of the glowing television, the grooves in her skin couldn’t be seen. Damian let his fingers trace their bumped feature; perfect lines. He let himself feel her mortality.

Glancing back at Serah’s face, he met her open eyes. Serah reached over to Damian and grasped his wrist firmly. Her thin fingers trembled on the smooth skin.

“Our wrists don’t match.” Serah whispered, sleep still catching at her words. Damian stared at her, taking all of her in. Her messy blonde hair was curling slightly. Her rumpled maroon, oversized shirt overlapped her jean shorts. Kitten socks covered her tiny feet.

“No, but they don’t have to.” Damian sealed his words with a light kiss to her forehead. The television glowed and the clock flashed.