I don’t wanna miss a thing…

It was a crucial part of Delenn and John Sheridan’s courtship from the series Babylon 5.

Part of the ritual from the Minbari culture meant that the female should spend the night watching the man sleep.

Such a curious pastime and yet so relevant.

Ruf is so still when he sleeps. Invariably he will start off on his right side with his arms wrapped around me but later, as sleep overtakes him, he will turn away to rest on his left. Confining himself to such a small section of the bed, which encourages the woman who normally takes up such a tiny space, to spread herself out and stretch out her toes to make contact with him.

Refracting in the soft daylight coming through the curtains, I often gaze at Ruf’s resting face for ages. Wrapped in the security of his arms, our naked bodies pressed tightly against each other, I take in his stubbled countenance. His face in repose. The dimple just faintly showing throught the bristles, even though he is not smiling. His lips almost a straight line. The faint wrinkles at the corners of his eyes and across his forehead.

I trail my fingers across his philtrum and around his mouth before lightly grasping my ‘walnut’, that little clefted nobble forming his chin.

I had been looking forward to this weekend so badly and the knowledge that the gap before the next one would be the longest in a while made it even sweeter.

We made love, we fucked, we just touched. We spent at least three of the five days lying naked in our bed. The final few hours a torture of yearning that our exhausted bodies could barely raise themselves to satisfy.

When we both knew that the time constraint meant that this would be the last opportunity, we summoned any remaining reserves of strength and tried to communicate the immensity of all those feelings into one final consummation.

Arms wrapped around each other in missionary, we joined together, souls as closely interlocking and overlapping as our limbs. The gasping exhalations as two sweet spots collided and ignited us, leaving such an inner peace.

And that’s when it came on the radio and I broke. The familiar strains of Stephen Tyler and the rush of emotion which is that video featuring clips from Armageddon.

Wrapping my arms and legs even tighter around him, I pressed my head into the side of his neck and I sobbed. Hot, wet tears leaking down our cheeks and puddling irritatingly in both our ears.

Ruf chided me for responding to the cheesiness of the lyrics but six weeks suddenly seemed like forever.