A dream... The scene is clearly one of a dream. The big, floppy recliner I sit in is the only thing really in focus. The room is bright, but grey and indistinct, because it's not really important.
You are there. I see you are... smaller than you are. And grayer. And cold, sad. I beckon you to me and you climb onto my lap. My arms encircle you as you curl up. I feel larger than I am. Stronger. I hold you, stroking you hair and back through your sweatshirt. You are shivering. You may be crying. There is wetness seeping though my shirt. I hold you and rock a little bit until the shaking stops. I will my warmth into you, breathing slowly, holding and stroking. In time - how much doesn't really matter - you sigh. I feel an ember of warmth reflected back to me and see a hint of color where your arms and legs peek from your clothing.
You pull back from me a bit, pushing yourself up on my chest to look at me eye to eye. I see sorrow, pain, life, beauty, so many things. I know I can't give everything you need. Perhaps nothing of lasting value, but it doesn't matter. The light around us is just a little warmer for now, and that's enough now.
There is something else in your eyes. Need. Desire. Hunger. You tilt your head back as I lean toward you. We kiss deeply, and warmth transmutes to heat on the softness of your lips and tongue. It *is* a dream, because such turns of moods only happen in dreams, but I don't care. Your hand comes up to entwine in my hair, as my hands slide up your back to tangle in yours.
You uncoil. You've been curled up on my lap, making yourself small. Now, without breaking the kiss you swing yourself around, until your back is against my chest. Your legs fall to either side of mine as I sit. We are wearing robes now. White terry-cloth.