Soft, moist and wet were the first sensations he felt as he awoke. His lips were being pressed upon by something warm and soft, tender, but carrying with them a gentle quiver. He could feel something soft and warm under his arms, and his hand was resting on something curved. It yielded to his touch, and was very soft. He ran his hand slowly downwards, feeling the softness curve upwards. The moist presence on his lips moved slowly across them, parting them. Then he began to feel something else, warm and even wet, drift tenderly past his lips. Was he dreaming? Well, he liked it, regardless.
Slowly he began to drift out of his sleep and into the realm of the living. He was in Sarah's bed, he knew that much. A dull pain raced across his ribs. The fight, he remembered now. He was recuperating.
