Hands through your hair

>be anon
>you're half asleep on the sofa
>if it weren't for the crack of moonlight making its way through the hastily closed curtains, it would be impossible to see
>the room is stuffy, even the air is exhausted
>nothing moves now but your hearts and your slow satisfied breaths
>a true midsummer weekend
>Gura's chest down on top of you, wearing nothing but a long, white pillowcase on her tail
>her head is resting on her crossed arms, and with half lidded eyes, she's gazing contentedly at your face
>overhead, her tail sways in an even, lazy pattern
>frankly, it's heaven
>holding Gura close, bare on bare, on a hot summer night
>your combined warmth is almost unbearable in this season, but something keeps you both locked together
>slowly, Gura pulls herself closer to your face
>rumia.webm, complete with a full set of shark teeth
>she moves up, her chin resting on the base of your neck
>you feel her casually run her fingers through your hair
>it's such a strange feeling, having someone else mess with your hair
>tension you didn't even know you had leaves you, and you feel empty
>this empty is pleasant, however, compared to the other kind you're all too familiar with
>a relaxation, a peace of mind and heart that only love can bring
>under her breath, Gura hums the tune of some song of another
>your sleep deprived and love addled brain tries and fails to remember the name
>eventually, steadily, the humming and the combing grow weaker and weaker, and eventually, steadily, Gura's head comes to rest against your neck
>on impulse, you return the favor, fruitlessly combing through her messy, unkempt hair
>the smell of generic shampoo has faded, overtaken by her natural smell
>it's indescribable, the smell
>all you know and all you care about however, is that it's pleasant enough to lose yourself in
>soon, the gentle rise and fall of her chest lulls you
>under your breath, before sleep takes you, you whisper
>o
>ya
>su
>mi