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Nikola's Light

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Warmth, light

Just seeing her

Hearing her

Being near her,

Is like basking in the sun

Does she know

How she affects me?

How her laugh,

How her smile, 

Causes my heart to race

She’s a light

The light of my soul

The light of my life

She’s the light of the world

The light of the—

“Nikola? What are you doing? The bed’s cold,” Helen’s tired voice breaks Nikola’s writing. 

He chuckles and puts down his pen. He folds the piece of paper, slips it into a drawer, and turns to Helen. He smiles at her as she glares at the light the lamp is producing. Getting the message, he turns it off and goes to return to his own light in the bed.

“It’s hard to sleep with the light on,” He says.

“You don’t sleep,” She replies as she rolls into his arms. 

“Even if I could, you’d be too distracting,” He admits. 

She hums in response but falls back asleep before replying. Nikola considers returning to his poem—he really needs to practice more—but ultimately decides to spend the night with his light in his arms.