Joan snuggled closer to Tom’s chest, easing herself into a more comfortable position while making sure not to wake him. She thoroughly enjoyed the feeling of lying beside him, just his bare skin against hers in the dark, still but for the sound of their still slightly ragged breathing.
Tom was spent and had quickly fallen deeply asleep, though not forgetting to encircle her in his arms; the cosy little spoon. His chin rested just above her head, and the hairs on his shins tickled her feet. She turned to kiss him once more, and moved the fringe of her bob out of her eyes before settling down.
She took care not to focus too much on the evening’s events, lest the savour keep her from sleeping. Still, it had been wonderful she thought to herself, stretching in contentment. After a little too much wine at the restaurant they had ambled five minutes late to the theatre. Apparently those few had been pivotal to the plot, as neither of them had been able to make head nor tail of the story, which only served to make it funnier for the tipsy couple. There had been quite a few stares in response to their sniggers when one of the heroines was murdered.