the cat that got the cream

After a hearty dinner, my name is called.
I run upstairs, following the sound of his voice.
The gentle tone leads me to his bedroom.
Where he is sat on his bed perched like a lion.
As I peep into the room, his eyes widen and he smiles.
He slowly lays back, resting his head on the pillow.
He pats the sheets of the bed next to him.
Gesturing me to join.
I do.
I leap beside him.
He strokes my head.
He greets me by the name beautiful.
Then he invites me onto his body.
I crawl onto him and stretch out over his chest.
I snuggle into his warm body as he wraps his arms around me.
I rub my head against his neck.
He laughs.
He looks down at me and a smile is brought to his pale face.
I stare into his sea blue eyes nearly drifting to sleep.
I can feel his heart beating under me like a miniature orchestra.
And can hear his slow but consistent reassuring breath.
My day dreaming is interrupted.
His cold fingers are stroking my face making my whiskers tingle.
He tickles me under the chin and pulls me closer to him.
Our faces are only a kiss away.
With this acknowledged, he kisses my head.
I purr.
He strokes me from top to tail.
Making me purr louder.
Like any feline would.