When you’re watching someone sleep, you’re seeing them at their most vulnerable. They’re relaxed and not protecting their expressions or movements
You might even see their reactions to dreams crossing their face, both smiles and troubled grimaces, which in my case would make me feel protective, wanting to reach out and soothe their emotions. You’d be pulled into their aura, in a way, sensing something about them that you might not see in the light of day when they’re wide awake. I think there’s a softness there, too, but protective and caring would seem to be biggies in how I might react. You’d notice every twitch and not be afraid they’d ask you what the hell you think you’re doing staring at them. Might even provide you with the first real look at someone, all their little scars and marks, so to speak, arousing thoughts of how they got them.
Their movements would be telling, too, I’d think. Someone who curls up in a “protective ball” might be a different sort from someone who sleeps sprawled, movements graceful even while asleep. If he slept on his side, he could throw an arm out, one that she could imagine across her, pulling her to him. That could be a moment she realizes how much she cares because she realizes she wants to be in his arms. I’m thinking, too, that she might realize that he’s relaxed, something she’s rarely seen, perhaps a sudden realization that he feels comfortable enough with her to sleep a sound sleep, not a fitful, half awake one.
I remember every sigh, twitch and rustle. Tracing the soft outline of your face, leaving scorch marks in my mind. I remember feeling infinite and how I knew this is where I belonged; by your side at your most vulnerable. Watching. Protecting you from what nightmares may come. Even if I was watching from a distance.