Little daydreamer (short story)

   Watching her sleep seemed to be the most marvelous privilege in the world. Her curvatious body laid on the leather couch, pretty lilac panties peaking under a long navy blue shirt, one hand placed under her chin and the other right beside her face. She was blissfully sleeping and dreaming of far away places she’ll visit some day. Completely unaware of how enchanting she is. To look at her, is to be serene. To touch her is to feel all the remarkable strength she holds within herself. But I don’t want to ruin this perfection. It’s much too precious for ruining. I’ll just keep on looking at her and wondering if she’ll eventually be mine.