Boredom, the only- and quite possibly the perfect– word to describe my current situation. All night, I lied bored on piles of blankets waiting for her to finally wake up. What’s worse was that I only had two sources of entertainment throughout the night: watching fire crackle from the fireplace, and listening to her soft snores. Unfortunately for me, all of that grew old within the first hour. But I couldn’t exactly get up and leave, not when her arms were locked securely around my waist… and then a thought came to mind:
Why was I still being held as the little spoon?
I was rarely big spoon, sure. She always had me in her arms at night. Naked, of course, because it was how she slept most comfortably, but last night was her night, like every night. But last night, specifically, was different. It wasn’t like most nights when she was always the big spoon. No, last night, Ash was my big spoon.
I only had to ask once, and she delivered with the happiest of smiles. My body was hers, and how does she repay me? She falls asleep without fulfilling her role! Maybe, I was being a little ridiculous but the questions were still driving me mad. Wasn’t it the responsibility of the big spoon to commit to the little one? Why was she doing nothing? Sleeping, of course, I knew she was. But why wasn’t she committed to me as my big spoon, especially when I was starting to feel more like a spork.
“Ash?” I whispered out quietly.
“Ash?” I repeated a bit louder. Part of me wanted her to wake up, while the other part wished she would stay asleep and ignore her wife’s forthcoming madness.
“Sleep,” She mumbled almost incoherently as the bed shifted. Soft, moistened lips touching against my skin; she’d been planting lazy kisses up and down, all between my neck and shoulder. All of it- every second of it– was clearly a distraction. Did she not understand the importance of this dilemma?