Love as you know it

He sat on the bed,typing away furiously with his fingers. The sunlight from the window behind,fell silently over his left shoulder in a square patch. I could see the occasional shadow of a bird flitting by. The bottle of beer lay open,propped up on the bed by his waist on one side,and the pillow on the other. Unattended for long,it now lay cradled in a drenched crevice of its own.
I gazed at his neck,where a stream of sunlight teased his clumsy black curls into iridescent strands. I traced my gaze over his shoulder,where the brown skin stretched out in familiar patterns,and rested my eyes on the strange little spot over his left arm. It always fascinated me,his birthmark-it seemed to remind me of a slightly distorted sea horse.
I knew he was angry. Disappointed. His pulsating passion was as palpable as the restless clatter of his keyboard. His brows were knit together in immense concentration. Looking at him then,thrust against the pillow with an effortless ease,with a passion that seemed to radiate with a calm and power of the December sun outside, i couldn't help but feel like a shell on the beach,engulfed by towering waves of an inexplicable emotion.
He took a swig,and without looking up,asked, "What are you looking at?"
"You."
"Don't. Next thing you know,the court will pass that off as a crime too."
I sighed heavily.Our kind of love,still had an entire nation to conquer.