I’m In Love With His Rhythm

A man and woman cuddling together in bed.
Becca Tapert / Unsplash

“I’m so tired,” I groan, falling spread-eagled onto the bed.

“You had a big day,” he states blandly. “Of course you are tired.”

I frown, pouting my lips, and he laughs, smiling down at me.

Grabbing my ankles, he shifts my limbs so that he can climb up onto the bed next to me. He brings his face centimeters from mine and pecks my nose with his lips.

“Hey, you,” he whispers.

“Hey,” I breathe back.

The corners of his mouth slowly pull into a smile and he edges closer, eliminating the space between us. He is tall and lanky, but when his skinny arms wrap around me, they hold an immeasurable warmth. He exudes comfort, and I place my head on his chest, cheek against his pounding heartbeat. My breathing begins to mirror his pulse, to mirror the gentle rise and fall of his chest.

“Are you hungry?” he murmurs. The vibrations of his voice ripple across my cheek.

I shake my head into his t-shirt. “I can’t be bothered moving,” I mumble. “Too comfy.”

He laughs, and I crane my neck so that I can see the laughter pull at the corners of his eyes and lips. He shakes his head at me, affectionately, and his gentle laughter nearly breaks something inside me.

With a soft flutter of his lips, he plants a kiss on my forehead. “Come on, you need food,” he declares, pushing himself up and dislodging me from his chest.

His voice is still gentle, but firm. It is his decision-voice, the one that I know I cannot argue with.

I roll my eyes at him. “Fine.”

He rolls his eyes back, exaggerating the movement with a dramatic toss of his head, and I giggle.

I nudge him in the ribs as I pull myself to my feet. “Gimme a bit to do my makeup, bub.”

“All good.”

“I’ll be quick,” I promise.

“Oh, it’s okay,” he sighs knowingly. “I know how long you ladies take.”

That earns him another eye roll and he grins at me cheekily as he shrugs on his signature yellow jacket.

As I sit in front of the mirror, I see him move to the far side of the room towards his laptop. He taps away silently for a couple seconds and then a soulful beat fills the room.

I shift so that I can watch him in the mirror as he closes his eyes and bobs his head a couple times. Another beat and his shoulders begin to twitch, then smooth out as he gives in to the groove.

I smile to myself and my eyes flick back to my own reflection as I try to quickly touch up my makeup.

When my eyes next land on him, he has picked up his bass. He has one leg propped up on his stool and he leans forward, hunched over the instrument, his face pensive. His fingers begin to pluck the strings and his shoulders continue to bounce along to the beat.

He begins to sing along softly, and although he has his back to me, I catch myself beaming at him.

I hum along with the final chorus as I pull my hair back into a ponytail and I cross the small space between us, coming to a stop just behind him. My hands resting lightly on his hips, I press my lips against his shoulder and he looks back at me with a smile.

I catch his eye and I know that this is something that I want in my life – this bright, funky man with his love of music and dance. This man who fills my life with the happiness of these spontaneous bright moments.

His eyes glance over my face, taking in my neater hairstyle. “Ready to go?”

I nod in response.

When we step out of the house, I immediately intertwine my fingers with his while he begins to tell me about the café down the road.

I rest my free hand on his forearm and listen to the intonations of his voice. In its depth, his voice possesses a melodic tone, and it holds a consistent calm which makes me want to sit and listen to him endlessly. In his voice, as in his stance, there is a commanding and gentle grace.

I glance across at him, this lanky man in his bright yellow jacket. As we pass a bar and the music reaches us, he twirls me around and winks down at me, grinning at my giggles.

I am in love with the rhythm which pulses through his body. Every movement he makes is unconsciously graceful. Whether he is grooving along in his bedroom or walking down the street, every footfall echoes a beat and with every movement, his body grooves along to his own personal soundtrack.

Yes, I am sure. I want to spend my life waking up to this man who grooves around the house and fills my life with beats and laughter. TC mark

Related

More From Thought Catalog

blog comments powered by Disqus