A Tired Affair

Inktober 2016 Day, The Thirtieth: Then slowly, she moved her lips from his and slid down into slumber. "This poor tired Woman", He thought. He was taken by surprise at first before realizing what a week she'd had. He no longer heard the rain, or the clip-clopping of the hooves outside, nor felt the gentle bumps of the carriage. He only heard her breath. He only felt the heat of her sleeping weight upon him. He felt like a part if the background, content to experience her resting, careful. It to stir. He was a guardian of her serenity, kind of a Warlock absorbing her exhaustion... somehow it gave him a fulfillment in itself. And he lay against the door listening to that breathing... stroking that hair...