sleep, dreams, fluff
Charlie stretches out on the ground with a yawn. Sunshine and grass are perfect for naps alone, and today is no different. He’s lulled to sleep easily.
He dreams, of course, but of nothing much important, not until the end. A soft hand strokes his hair, his cheek, down the center of his chest. He hums in pleasure, enjoying this rare touch. People are rarely, if ever, permitted to touch him. The anxiety it gives him is immense. But this is soothing, loving, and most of all: a comfort. The hand strokes his chest again, massaging him.
It’s so wonderful. Gods.
He feels the touch lighten and slip down to his stomach, rubbing him gently. It’s like being pet and coddled. It turns him into a fool for it all, and he bites his lip. He wants desperately for it to be her in his dream. “Thandi…”
“Yes, darling?”
One eye cracks open and he sees his darling leaning over him, a hand still on his stomach, stroking away as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He shakes his head and closes his eyes with a smile. “Nothing. I just wanted to say it.”
“My name? Whatever for?”
“I like it.”
She giggles and rewards him with an energetic rub across his belly, pulling a laugh from him as he wiggles under her touch. They grin at each other. Adorable.