Not Being Dead

Sarah Jean recovered herself faster this time than last. “I'm sorry,” she muttered into my shoulder.

“Glad to help,” I replied. I moved to break the hold but she resisted. While not the most comfortable situation in the world, this was still nice and if she didn't mind, why should I?

She shifted position, rotating so that she was leaning back into me rather than talking into me. She looked up at me but I couldn't really see her and I suspect the same was true for her. “Hi,” she said.

“Hello,” I politely replied.

“Why can't I get into your head?” she asked with a sigh.

“Oh you're in my head alright,” I responded.

She giggled. “Something happened to break our link. That I understand but I'm confused why I can't restart it.”

“That's the problem?” I checked.

She nodded. “Part of it anyway. It's why I couldn't feel you were still alive.”

“I've been so tired this week I just blamed everything on that,” I explained. “I knew I didn't feel right but didn't realize it was that.” When that link is active, I feel a gentle warmth, like being constantly hugged. I guess I knew it was gone but didn't know that was it. “Maybe I am dead.”

“Don't say that. That's not funny.”

“I didn't say it to be funny,” I noted. Then I grinned. “Maybe you're dead.”

“That is also not funny,” she declared. After a moment she added “You do smell like you could be dead.”

“Well I wasn't prepared for company this morning,” I retorted, “no matter how frantic or pleasant that company may be. I can go get cleaned up if you like.”

“Not just yet,” she informed. “I'm still enjoying you not being dead.” She nestled into me. “Just a bit more.”

So that's what we did.