"Okay, you get that side. I got this one," you confidently declare. Together, we toss up our respective corners of a freshly laundered bed sheet. The sheet seems to inhale with a belly full of air before it gently exhales and parachutes down onto the mattress.
"Perfect," I sigh before plopping my torso headfirst onto the edge of the bed. I close my eyes and nuzzle my face into the soft sheets. My legs dangle over the side of the bed.
Like an excited toddler entering a bounce house, you carelessly toss yourself onto the bed and begin making blanket angels. And as if we're playing follow the leader, I throw my tired legs onto the snowy bed sheets and do the same. Our blanket angels criss-cross into each other, as your right leg rhythmically slides over my left one. After a few more windshield wiper movements, I place my palms on the bed to hoist myself up and look behind me. I take in the wrinkly pattern we created together. “Ah, a work of art," I think, and I lie back down, using your stomach as a pillow. I feel the rise and fall of your breaths underneath my heavy head.
The comforting scent of laundry now wafts around my tiny studio apartment. I bury my nose into your heather gray cotton shirt and finally into your left collarbone. The scent of your skin swirls into the fragrance of laundry detergent and emits a unique, relaxing aroma that can only be created in fleeting moments like this one.
I wish I could bottle up this experience into a perfume, so I can relive it over and over again with the ease of a single spritz. It would have base notes of intimacy and closeness, heart notes of rest and relaxation, and top notes of zesty playfulness. I interlace your fingers with mine, flutter my eyes closed, and bask in this moment.