A song of nature. He wondered how he could hear it when he was so deep beneath the ground, under the house that was intended for his home. He didn’t want to move or open his eyes. He held Branislava in his arms and in the first instant of waking, with the music of the rain and the warmth of her soft body curled next to him, the moment was perfect. He inhaled the scent of her hair, all that soft silk falling over him. He was naked, skin to skin with her, and he recognized her as he never had before. His body was spooned around hers, protectively, because, even in his deepest sleep, that was his strongest instinct. One thigh was over hers and in his palm he held her breast, a soft, sweet mound that rose and fell with every breath she took. She was awake, he realized, and just like him, she didn’t move. She didn’t want to chance disturbing that perfect moment, either. He kept his eyes closed, savoring just holding her. He could feel the subtle beat of the earth’s heart beneath him, reaching toward the water pouring down to feed the veins and arteries that ran throughout the land nourishing all life.
