I met Azusa in our usual quiet university lecture hall. He was big-bodied and almost awkwardly earnest. Yet, I found myself drawn to the defenseless kindness he showed from time to time.

Even now, three years into our marriage, Azusa's sweet love hasn't changed a bit. On holiday mornings, he accepts all my selfishness with a face that's still half-lost in dreams, but when night comes... he falls into a deep sleep with unbelievable ease.

Once he's asleep, absolutely nothing will wake him.

Listening to his rhythmic breathing, the "little devil" inside me quietly wakes up. His defenseless, adorable sleeping face is such a contrast to his daytime self.

The heat of his body right next to me, and his slightly heavy breath against my ear. Because I know the love he has for me alone.

I let out a silent giggle and become a "slightly bad wife" for the night. With a face I never show during the day, I creep toward his chest.

Feeling my own temperature rise from the heat radiating from his skin. Hey, Azusa. It's your fault for not waking up, okay?

As if to steal away the body I crave precisely because I love him, even into his dreams, I quietly let my fingertips slide.