Quill rests his head in my lap as I read him a story from my youth. The cover is battered, and old, but only because it was handled with such love.
The thin pages make loud crinkled noises as I turn each page, and Quill's entire body is relaxed, half on me, and half on the bed.
I run a gentle hand through his long curly curls, the strands sticking to each other or one another. Each time I do it, he closes his eyes, as if soothed by my touch.
That makes my heart flutter.
"...so, when the boy was given back his wings, instead of following the path of the heavens, he went back to earth where the love of his life awaited him. And though the scars were forever on his back, he never regretted the choice he made. How they both rejoiced for being able to be together for all their days, and for all eternity. The End." I finished, closing the book as I kissed Quill's temple.
He moved so now his full body was on the bed, pulling me down next to him.
