Kiss

He had this stupid way of making everything sound like a question. It made me feel better because he never sounded like he knew anything. Everything became a chance to discover ourselves, a chance to figure something out, an opportunity to create something. So we became two explorers in a world where everything is already figured out.

He would play his guitar and I would write. He would place his head on my lap while I told him stories. He would listen to me for hours with that same expression of wonder and interest. I'd stop and blush. 

He was the only person I've ever been with who actually kissed my tears away. Gently he would brush the tears aside with his fingers and then he would press his warm lips on my cheeks, gently nibbling on my ear and then kissing down the slope of my neck. He always took his time with me, I wasn't expected to be anyone else or to know what to do, I didn't have to ask permission or wonder what he wanted. He just wanted me. If this wasn't love, this was the closest I have ever come to it.