“Amazing,” he said, sitting next to her.
She placed her wine glass on the bedside table.
“That they can legislate the sunlight. Give us more of it.”
She burrowed into his side.
“It’s not really more. We’re just awake for a better part of it.”
“But it feels like there’s more.”
She yawned and pitched herself into the pillows.
“All I’m feeling is the loss of that hour.”
He smiled down at her.
“It’s kind of a leap of faith. The spring forward. I like the sound of that. Much better than falling back.”
She tugged on his sleeve, until his head hit the feathers.
“I don’t know,” she murmured into his ear. “I kind of like falling back. Don’t you?”
“When you put it like that. Yeah.”
“Do you think ‘they’ could legislate something else for me?”
“That no matter where we are, you’ll always be with me. Whether springing forward or falling back.” She looked into his eyes. “Or staying perfectly still.”
His six o’clock shadow scratched the pillowcase as he inched closer.
“I passed that resolution a long time ago,” he said. “Didn’t I tell you?”
He kissed her. She grabbed on.
“I love you,” she said.
“I know. I feel that, too.”
“I bet you do,” she said, nails tracing the hours on his back. Before rubbing them all away.
He leaped, she sank. They stayed perfectly still. Until a confused sun gave up, and went to sleep.