It had been a long week and it was finally Friday. Amy and I sighed heavily as we sat down on her couch that evening. Any working adult or student will understand the almost orgasmic relief of sitting down on the couch, sweatpants on, popcorn popped, and booze within reach. We both reached over and picked up our hot honey-whiskey apple ciders and clinked our mugs, smiling. Amy scooted over and tucked her head into the crook of my shoulder as the opening scene of Tommy Boy began. I set my drink down and wrapped my arm around her. She nuzzled in closer. It felt so good to cuddle after an extremely stressful school week. We’d barely seen each other at all, let alone had time to snuggle on the couch.
I looked down and kissed her on top of the head, taking a deep breath of her hair. Amy didn’t shower strictly every day and it always made her hair smell like her, not shampoo. I loved it. I loved her. She leaned over and set her mug on the carpet, then sat back, scooted over, and laid her head down in my lap. I ran my fingers softly through her hair. Amy giggled at the movie. I had forgotten we were even watching it. She had a charming, honest, singsong laugh.