There was a light flurry of pleasant goosebumps running upon him as she re-initiated a kiss almost as soon as he had broken it. Her touch, oh her touch, and the way she seemed to move, to mold against him! It was nothing more and nothing less than perfection.
Still in the middle of brushing her hair, having interrupted himself earlier, he now laid the instruments upon the floor to claim her properly into his arm. Whe he looked at her, he could see himself reflected upon those half-open white orbs.

"What... ever shall I have you do." he murmured. "...whatever might I ask but 'be happy'..." and he knew. She was happy... because she was in arms. Because she was loved.