"Do you think you feel up to an outing today?" His voice breaks into my heavenly haze as his fingers trail lazily along my thigh.
"Ummm... sure, if that's what you'd like. Afraid to be here alone with me any longer?"
"Not at all, sweetheart, there's nothing I fear less, but there's something I'd like to do with you that requires we leave the apartment."
"And what would you like to do with me? Or, what else, I should say?"
He gives me a wicked smile and kisses slowly up my stomach with hooded eyes, "It would take an eternity to answer that question, Miss Beaulieu."
"Then it's a good thing we have that," I murmur, "I'm looking quite forward to an eternity of your
His wicked smile turns to a wicked chuckle, "Then I shall make spoiling you with both my life's goal."
As if I weren't already mush? "If my legs weren't currently the consistency of oatmeal, courtesy of your spoiling mouth, I swear I'd jump up and do a cheer. To show my enthusiasm for your worthy future endeavors. But since they are, I'm afraid all I can offer you is unlimited access and opportunity to reach that goal."
"Well, fret not, ma petite gâterie, I assure you that's not necessary. The cheers, that is, because yours are still ringing through my ego-inflated head, and echoing through these very walls. Your enthusiasm is not in question. As for unlimited access and opportunity... I secured that long ago."
"You have all but put a ring on it, Sir, this I can not deny."
I said the words without thought, our playful conversation bringing them straight from my mouth, but the look in his beautiful dark eyes is anything but playful... and I suddenly feel like I've said something wrong.
I quickly change the subject, "So, you said we were going somewhere? Any particular way I need to dress?"
"You made a valid point, Claire. It's rather uncharacteristic of you to diverge your attention so quickly. One might wonder the reasons."
Maybe wrong wasn't quite right. Stay with me, gorgeous... don't let the doubt creep in... "You said there was something you'd like to do with me that requires us leaving... I was merely trying to get back on the track that I may have selfishly led us off of with my love-to-be-spoiled ramblings. You know I'd have no problem lying here all day and letting you indulge me. Any way you saw fit. Here or anywhere. Any way at all."
He's quiet for a moment. Pensive. Unreadable. And then moving on. "As to your question, no, just bundle up. We'll be outside for a little while. If you think you can handle that?"
"I'll tell you if I get too cold."
"Or too anything at all?"
"I promise," I say, "Everything I feel will be written all over my face."
"Then I shouldn't miss anything, because I could never take my eyes off of your face."
His words come back to me now, and flow from my mouth with pride. "A blatant LIE, beautiful."
He laughs, but then his face falls. "I don't know what I can possibly say to that. It is a lie, isn't it? I just lied to you... there's no way to justify it... not even by my own interpretation... I lied. I promised you I never would. A promise I never doubted I'd be able to keep... "
"You're adorable," I laugh, using more of his words.
"I'm a liar, Claire, nothing more, nothing less. You're in love with a liar... "
"I am," I laugh again. "Hopelessly. Poor me."
"How can I expect you to ever believe another word I say?"
"It's okay. It's not your fault. The perfection that is
"Another valid point, sweetheart. And very generous and forgiving of you. I know I'm not worthy, but I selfishly accept your understanding. I am, in fact, inexplicably derailed by the perfection that is mine. As for holding it against me... that would certainly derail our day's plans, but being that it is mine, I'll hold it when and where I want it, as I see fit. "
"Yes, Sir. Of course."
"You know, Claire, I like that more and more every time I hear it."
"I know."
"You're doing exceptionally well with unselfish."
"Thank you. I'm trying."
"That's clear. I'll have to see what I can do to reward your efforts."
"I'm pretty sure you already did. It would be selfish of me to accept anything more."
"Your reward was my indulgence, and therefore shared. My brat deserves a reward all her own, and accept she will. Understood?"
"Yes, SIR!" I salute, followed by a shameless, love-to-be-spoiled squeal.
"That's my girl," he chuckles. "Now hit the shower, since I obliterated your first one with one for myself."
He winks at the blush that instantly spreads over me at his words, and my recently regained legs are returned to mush. "You know, it's cruel for you to issue an order and then render me unable to obey it."
"Yet another valid point, my love. My fault entirely. Take your time and regain your bearings. I'll go ahead and jump in first and leave it running for you."
"Okay," I agree easily, and smile as he jumps from the bed and peels his t-shirt over his head in one swift move, before tossing it so that it lands square on the top of my head.
It makes me giggle, and dizzy from his heavenly scent, but before I can even think to pull it off, it is and he's over me, pulling me up, a torrent of horror-stricken apologies pouring from his mouth. He's frantically pushing my hair away from my face, as if it will suffocate me if he doesn't, and the guilt he clearly feels at his harmless, playful gesture breaks my heart.
"Jaimin, please, I'm okay. Don't be upset, you didn't do anything. I promise I'm fine... "
"I wasn't thinking... I'm so sorry, Claire, I should never have done that. I... "
"Baby, the only thing you did to take my breath away was take off your shirt. And trust me, it's more than worth it."
I know he feels terrible, but I can't resist the rare opportunity he's provided me to look at him. I move my gaze from his sweetly over-concerned face to his perfectly sculpted shoulders and down over his hard chest and begging-to-be-licked abs. I'm pretty sure my tongue even slips unbidden from my mouth and over my lip as my mind fulfills fantasies my mouth is denied.
I do, indeed, become breathless, because, frankly I think I forget how, and his tortured voice turns to a low chuckle as he cups my face in his hands and lifts it so that I'm forced to meet his eyes.
"BREATHE, please."
But as much as his eyes own me, they can't keep me while he's still mouthwateringly shirtless before me. Him, who I know spoke, but the gift of speech seems to have left me just as surely as my breath.
"Uh-huh."
"In and out."
"Uh-huh."
"Claire."
"Uh-huh."
"Have I really so deprived you that such a simple, albeit admittedly magnificent, sight has rendered you nearly catatonic?"
"Uh-huh."
"I see. Well, sweetheart, then you leave me no choice but to break my promise."
"Huh?"
"If the sight of me sans shirt has this effect on you, then for your own safety, I will refrain from any further disclosure. Very soon will now have to be put on hold indefinitely, if not never. I'm sorry, but I love you far too much to take such a risk."
Welcome back, speech! "WHAT?! YOU CAN'T DO THAT TO ME!"
"Well, hello Claire. I missed you."
"That's not funny! You couldn't miss me, because I'm right here! Breathing! See? In and out, just like you wanted. I'm fine. I'm not catatonic... I'm talking. Breathing and talking... "
"You're so adorable," he smirks devilishly, shaking his head. "SHAMELESS, but adorable."
"Please don't break your promise. Please? I'm begging you... "
"It's only because I love you. A selfless decision, really. I think it's admirable. Noble, even. Who would have thought I was capable?"
"I am fully aware of how noble you are, and frankly I think it sucks."
"That's a very pretty lip, but I wish you wouldn't pout."
"Well, too bad. You better get used to looking at it, because this pretty pout is all you're going to see until you UNBREAK your broken promise."
"Hmmm... do I sense the stirrings of a spoiled brat storm in the air?"
"YES."
"An unfortunate weather condition, but nothing I can't endure, I assure you. Carry on if you must."
He moves from the bed again, and struts arrogantly across the room to the full length mirror on the far wall. He puts on a show of a slow and appreciative self-inspection, before glancing over at me, where I'm still pouting on the bed with arms crossed.
"Don't feel bad, sweetheart. It really is a magnificent sight. And being that you're such a visual person, it's understandable that you were rendered speechless in your appreciation of the subject before you. Even a brilliant artist such as yourself would be powerless against such a vision of perfection."
"Your arrogance is reprehensible."
"Yet just this morning you pleaded for its arrival."
"I pleaded for him."
"He's here."
"He's disgusting."
"You're enthralled."
"Perhaps, but not the only one."
"Narcissus had nothing on me, it's true."
"Yes it is, but I wasn't referring to that."
"No?"
"No."
"Then what were you referring to?"
"My enthralled state has nothing on yours."
"Don't be embarrassed, Claire... "
"I'm not. I'm NAKED."
"A magnificent sight, as well. Is that what you wanted to hear?"
"I already know, thank you, but no, not my point."
His mouth twitches with amusement, but he continues to feign arrogant cluelessness, and shameless self-appreciation in the mirror. "Then what is your point?"
"That I'm NAKED. A state created by YOU. For the third time since you brought me home. Less than twenty four hours ago. So that you could indulge YOURSELF. Talk about ENTHRALLED... "
"You are full of valid points this morning."
"And your response?"
"GUILTY."
"At least you can admit it."
"I wouldn't dream of denying it. I've already lied once this morning, a grave error I won't repeat."
"Good." I climb from the bed and cross to where he stands in front of the mirror and give him a shove. "We need a bigger mirror," turning around and rubbing my hands over my ass appreciatively as I look over my shoulder at my reflection. "This one just won't do for the magnificence that now shares this space."
He moves in front of me and replaces my hands with his own. His eyes are focused on his movements over me, but mine look only at his in the mirror. And see exactly what I want to see. Not to mention what I feel against me...
Which I now move gently against for a brief second. "Break your promise, my ass, sweetheart. Your mouth may say so, but your... "
One of his hands moves quickly to stifle my words, but his body is in full betrayal of his noble intentions as he grips me roughly with his other still-in-place hand and pulls me hard against him. "I never said all parts were in agreement, sweetheart."
I hum against his palm and he drops his hand,with a warning narrowing of his eyes, to allow me to speak. "A valid point, Mr. Guillory. Very... VERY... valid."
A smirk touches his mouth and his eyes warm as he gazes down at me, beautiful face to beautiful face, and what I see gives me hope. Real, actual, hope. Break his promise is the last thing he wants to do.
So I won't torment him anymore. He's tormenting himself enough. He always does. Indulge he may, in the course of his generosity, but generosity it is. Since the first day I mentioned it. I said I wanted something -- something he never gave anyone before -- and mere hours later he selflessly granted my wish. It doesn't matter that he discovered a new and unexpected pleasure for himself, he did it for me. My asking was selfish. His giving anything but. He denies me nothing that's for me, but everything if what I ask for could in any way be for him.
He's the most selfless and generous person I've ever known.
I work to fight against my renewed breathless state, because no matter how much I know he wants me, I know now is not the time. He still doesn't think he's worthy, but at least I know he wants to be, and what I see tells me we're close. He's close to believing...
"So... you were heading to the shower... "
He takes a deep breath and clears his throat before he answers. "I was."
"That's good. A nice hot shower can do wonders for built up tension. I hope... because you deserve to relax."
"That's very sweet of you to say."
"The spoiled brat storm has passed, I think."
"Then I'd better take advantage of the sunshine, huh?"
I place my lips against his chest and inhale his scent before giving him one gentle kiss and pulling away. "Uh-huh."
"Thank you, Claire."
I repeat his words to him yet again. "It's only because I love you."
"I know."
His tender smile leaves no question that he does as he releases me and turns and walks away. I swallow hard at the sight of his smooth, strong back moving away from me. I could paint a masterpiece on that... but then it already is...
~
He returned to the bedroom in nothing but a towel, water still beaded on his skin, smirking at me as he told me the shower was running and waiting for me. I asked him if I could lick him dry, the words flying out of my mouth unfiltered and unstoppable, and was answered with a stinging smack to my behind as I followed his 'this way' point out the door.
I can't help but smile as I step under the hot spray for the second time this morning, the reason why I need to flooding over me with the cascading water. Even though I'm alone, I feel a blush settle on my skin as my soapy hands follow the trail his mouth charted over me just a short time ago, after he informed me that the oatmeal hadn't quite quelled his hunger. Very generous, indeed...
And all mine.
All of the time.
We live together.
I've never lived with anyone before.
I've never been willing to share that much. Time. Space. Me.
Until now. For him. With him.
And I'm happy. To know that when I step out of this room, he's somewhere just outside of it. To know that when I climb into bed every night, he'll be beside me. That I'll sleep with his arms wrapped around me. That when I wake, he'll be next to me, or somewhere close, making my breakfast or doing some other sweet thing for me. Because he's always doing something for me. Because he's selfless. Generous.
Because I'm his everything.
And I'm happy.
I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror as I dry off, and the smile that is spread across my face. I don't think I could remove it if I tried, and it only gets wider as I find my robe on the back of the door. The robe that I didn't have when I came in here and that he must have brought for me. I never even heard him.
My smile gets wider still as I reach the bedroom, our bedroom, and find my clothes laid out on the made bed. It's not the first time he's done it, but the gesture is so impossibly sweet... and maybe just a bit controlling...
He told me to bundle up, and the layers of warm clothes he's chosen for me ensure that I will be just that, as he sees fit. He's selected a pair of dark gray wool slacks, a long sleeve cream fitted tee, and a cream cashmere turtleneck sweater, topped off with lacy goodies of the same cream hue. I think there may be meaning in his color choice, an unspoken request for sweetness, perhaps, but he doesn't need to ask. Not now.
My black sherpa-lined boots sit on the floor, and he even remembered a pair of socks, which stick out of the top of one of the boots. Controlling or not, it's really kind of adorable. The man certainly has his moments. And I don't want to miss a single one of them, so I dress quickly.
Well... as quickly as I can, with his eyes on me. Which I discover almost immediately. Or feel, rather, from the doorway of the bedroom. He doesn't say anything, only watches me, and my only acknowledgement of his presence is a sweet smile in his direction. And goosebumps, but I don't think he can see those from where he stands. At a distance. Just watching. Until I'm finished and grab my brush from the top of the bureau, where I don't remember leaving it.
He's behind me now, and takes it from my hand, and starts to gently pull it through my hair. The simple act of which begins to weaken my legs. "That might not be a good idea," I whisper. "At least not if I'm expected to walk out of here."
"I know your weaknesses, Claire."
"It's just one, really."
"It's far more than one. Be careful what you say, sweetheart."
"No, it is just one. You."
"Ahhh, I see. Well, that's true. I do know that."
"I'm glad you know."
He nuzzles his face into my hair and his lips tickle my neck as he whispers to me, "Your hair is still damp. I'm not letting you catch a cold."
I had dried my hair before I left the bathroom, but apparently not thoroughly enough. He takes my hand and leads me back there, and pulls the dryer from the vanity drawer.
"It will just take me a minute," I say, taking it from him and plugging it in, "and a few to put on a face, and then I'll be ready."
"I want to do it," he says simply, taking it back. He positions me in front of the mirror and turns it on, and the combination of his hands and the heat nearly sends me toppling.
"I haven't paid nearly enough attention to your pretty head, have I?" he asks with a knowing smile.
"Uh-uh," I murmur, returning to restricted speech.
"Well, then it's a good thing I already have my book out. I'll make the new notation as soon as we're finished here."
"Why do you have it out? Keeping a tally on numbers five and six?"
He laughs and gives my hair a gentle tug. "How shamelessly adorable that you know the numbers."
"I am both," I sigh, feeling the blush return. "And, yes, I most certainly do."
"I think you're dry now," he says with a wink and kisses the top of my head.
"That's up to interpretation," I sigh again.
He chuckles low in his throat as he puts the hair dryer away. "And no, I'm not keeping a tally. We'd need more books than we have space to keep. The thing about five and six is that there are four other notes before it. I was just checking those." He clears his throat and starts to pull me from the bathroom. "And now you're ready, so let's go."
I stop my mental imaging of his notes and try to pull my hand from his. "I don't have my face on yet... "
He takes said face in his hands and looks at me intently. "Yes you do, and it's perfect. Sometimes a blank canvas is a masterpiece before your pretty little fingers even touch it. Well, this one particular canvas, anyway."
"You've been looking at me bare for too long."
I didn't apply a bit of makeup to my face almost the entire time I was in the hospital. Initially it was because of my lost coordination. Caressa made me up like a doll one day, much to her son's dislike, which he expressed both verbally and physically -- taking it upon himself to go to the bathroom and get a warm washcloth to remove every trace of it -- which he did. After that never-to-be-repeated experiment, I just didn't bother. Then I couldn't...
He didn't protest to my donning a little for my party, though he did point out that my day's impending spoiling had already put a lovely glow on my face. But now... going out and about with the most beautiful man on the planet in my natural born state feels a little disconcerting, no matter how pretty I am.
"I know you don't like too much, although your dismissed harem was by no means proof of that fact, but I don't wear anything close to that. You know that. I don't need to, but I'd like to wear a little, especially for an outing on your beautiful arm."
"They are, as you said, DISMISSED, Claire. Was it necessary to bring them here?"
Shit! "No. It wasn't. I'm sorry. It wasn't necessary at all. I didn't mean to... "
He puts his finger to my lips to silence me and lets out a deep sigh, "I know you didn't, and we're not going to waste any time on it. As for my beautiful arm, I want you to be comfortable on it, but you should already be that without any paint."
"Paint?"
"I'm really not concerned with the proper terminology. My point is you're beautiful without it."
"Okay, you've made your point. You win this time, but only because it's a daytime outing, and I suppose the cold will put a little color on my cheeks."
"There's always a little color on your cheeks, as long as I'm near you." His cocky smirk is nothing short of delicious and I know warranted.
"Actually, you don't even have to be near me. The mere thought of you can dress me in red."
"Good. I like you in red."
"I know," I sigh, "Now, I also know that I said you won, but may I have your permission to put something on my lips? The cold will chap them if I don't."
"I wasn't issuing an order, sweetheart, I was merely expressing my preference. You can put on anything you want. As much as I'd like to own it, it is your face."
I make a mental note to request the return of my little pink shorts at the next opportune moment -- since I can put on anything I want -- and quickly apply a light layer of mascara and a touch of barely-there gloss. When I'm finished, I present the finished product for approval and am met with a dizzying kiss.
"Does that mean I pass?" I ask through my befuddled brain.
"Your existence means you pass, beautiful. And if I may, I fully intend to keep your lips protected from the elements."
"Why, thank you kind Sir, that is incredibly generous of you. My existence is honored, as are my lips."
"Remember that," he says as he leads me down the hall, "because I can't be held responsible for my actions today when I see anyone so much as look at you, which I know is inevitable."
I look at him thoughtfully as he helps me into my coat -- also of his choosing -- and scarf, hat and gloves of the same, before putting on his own, sans hat. "Do you think we should take an umbrella?" I ask as he opens the door.
"Because it's snowing?"
"No, because you issued a storm warning."
"Did I?"
"It sounded like it. Inevitable and all that."
"Just stay close to me and it might pass right by."
"Then we definitely don't need an umbrella, because that's my favorite place to be. Now let's get out of here because I'm suffocating."
He looks at me with sad eyes and I gesture to my bundled state in explanation of my words, and he quickly pulls me out the door. I don't know where we're going, and I don't ask...
I'd go anywhere with this man by my side.
~
"What do you think?" he asks with a proud smile.
"I think it's big."
"Not too big."
"Not too big? It's a monstrosity. I'm not sure it will fit."
He raises an arrogant brow and chuckles, making me blush.
So not touching that... "But you seem to have your heart set on it, and it suits you, so... "
"It's our tree, Claire. If you don't like it, we'll keep looking until we find something you do like."
"It's beautiful. Pretentious, but beautiful."
"Pretentious?"
"Yes. Very. And that's why you love it."
"It's perfect."
"Precisely."
"I like perfection."
"I know. So... do you think we could have two?"
"Two trees?"
"Yes."
"You want your own?"
"Yes. No. Sort of. It's hard to explain."
"If that's what you want. But maybe we should look for a smaller one, because this one will make it hard to fit a second... "
"No, mine won't take up much space. We'll have room for both."
He doesn't understand, but doesn't deny me. "Then lets start looking."
"I already know which one I want. I saw it when we first came in."
"Then why didn't you tell me?"
"I'm telling you now."
"That you are. Okay, lead me to it."
I take his hand and do just that and the expression on his face when I stop in front of it is exactly what I expected to see.
"That?"
"Yes."
"It's hideous."
"No it's not."
"Sweetheart, I'm pretty sure it was put here to die. Discarded like the... "
"Please don't."
"Don't what?"
"Don't insult my tree."
"I'm sorry, I just mean... "
"I know what you mean. It's here because they think no one will want it."
"Well, they're right."
"No they're not. I want it."
"Why? It's not even a tree. It's the size of a shrub, has maybe five branches, although calling them that is being generous, and... "
"Nevermind. I hoped you'd understand, but you don't. Let's just get the perfect tree you want and go. I'm cold."
I fight the tears that are pricking my eyes and wrap my arms around myself. I really did hope he'd understand and it hurts that he doesn't.
And that he sees. "Hey... I'm sorry. Talk to me, Claire. Tell me what I did."
"Nothing. Just get your tree, please."
"Our tree, and I don't want it if you hate it. And I certainly don't want you to be upset. Talk to me."
"I'm trying. I'm telling you that I'm cold."
He takes off his coat and wraps it around me, followed by his arms. "Talk to me, Claire."
"Jaimin, please, it's freezing. You'll catch pneumonia." I try to pull free, desperately wanting him to put his coat back on, but he only tightens his hold.
"I don't care how cold it is. Clearly I've hurt you, and that's all that matters to me right now. I'm sorry I don't understand, but please tell me what I did so that I can undo it. Please."
Give him a chance. They didn't understand right away either.
I look into his pleading eyes, tortured with the knowledge that he hurt me and truly doesn't know why or how, and try one more time, my voice a whisper. "No one wants it. It doesn't belong."
His brows crease with confusion, for a split second, but then his eyes fall closed and he bends to rest his head against mine. "That's not true."
"You said it was discarded and put here to... "
"I'm an asshole."
"No... just... "
"YES. An arrogant, shallow, pretentious fucking epic bastard of an asshole."
"That's a bit harsh. You're not shallow."
The small laugh that comes from him doesn't in any way touch his eyes as his gloved hands come up to cradle my face. "I am sorry, sweetheart. I understand now. I should have before... but, Claire... I want you to understand something. You weren't discarded. You were chosen. Like you chose that beautiful tree... "
"You said it was hideous."
"I was wrong about that. It's not hideous, it's the most beautiful, perfect tree I've ever seen. It just needs a little love."
"Let's face, it needs a lot of love," I laugh, as he bends down and stands it upright. "The poor thing is starved."
"Then it's a good thing we're taking it home. Two pairs of brilliantly gifted hands and one shockingly beautiful heart... "
I correct him before he can finish, "TWO shockingly beautiful hearts, unless you were referring to yours."
"You know I wasn't. Now, let's take our tree and get you out of this cold."
"Trees, also two. And we're not doing anything until you put this coat back on."
I pull it from around me and hold it up, with a stern Don't disobey me glare, but he only laughs as he takes it and pulls it on. "Is that your scary face?"
"Yes it is," I say proudly.
"You really are adorable beyond words, sweetheart. And it's a good thing my scary face actually is, because our kids are never going to take yours seriously."
I put my hands on my hips and narrow my eyes at him, but it quickly turns to a laugh as I consider our. "Like they aren't already predestined to be impossibly cocky, spoiled brats?"
His eyes go wide with fright before his beautiful smile takes over his face. "Sounds perfect to me."
I return his smile and he pulls me to him, kissing me deeply. So deeply that my legs start to give and I fall against him.
"Do I need to carry you out of here?" he murmurs, his lips never leaving mine.
"You will if you kiss me like that again."
"Not exactly incentive not to."
"Then let me give you some. My lips are on fire, and my insides are warm and cozy, but the rest of me is cold."
He doesn't need to hear me say it again and quickly signals for one of the attendants standing nearby. He even appears to let slide the fact that his attention seemed to already be on us as he leads him to the perfect product of nature that is our other tree, with me tucked into his side.
Once back at the entrance, he pulls his wallet out to pay, but the attendant there only gives him the price of the one tree. "And this one?" he asks, gesturing to the one I'm holding upright.
"That worthless thing? You can have it if you really want it, although I don't see why you would."
I lift it and hold it possessively to me and the man looks at me like I'm crazy. Mine leans down and kisses the top of my head before addressing him. "Well, we do. This cover it?"
The attendant looks at the bills in his outstretched hand in shock. "That's more than double what you're paying for... "
"IS THAT A YES?"
He thinks better of any further insult to my tree and takes the money from his hand with a "Yes, sir!" and a You're both crazy shake of his head.
The tears prick my eyes again as Jaimin takes the tree from my arms and tucks me under his and leads me to the truck. I don't fight them this time, his new understanding overwhelming me. "Thank you," I whisper, once I'm in my seat and he leans over me to start the truck and turn on the heat, "For believing it was worth something. Or for doing it for me even if you don't."
He wipes my tears with the backs of his gloved fingers. "I'd do anything for you, sweetheart. And even though my eyes don't focus as quickly as yours, you're teaching me to see that there's beauty to be found beneath rough exteriors if I just look hard enough."
"I'm pretty sure you taught me that."
"That's up to interpretation," he sighs, "but thank you for looking hard enough to see through mine."
"There's nothing rough about your exterior. The trick is seeing beyond the heart-stopping perfection of it, and tuning out your cockiness. For just a second or two."
"You tuned me out? Are you sure you want to admit that to me?"
"Well, in my defense, it was long before you told me not to. And I had no choice, really... your eyes told me to. They were giving me orders long before your mouth was. I couldn't deny them if I wanted to."
"I can't be mad at them, I guess. They saw you first."
"Lucky for me."
"That's up to... " I silence his words by pulling his mouth to mine, because my interpretation is the only one that matters to me in this moment. I'm the luckiest girl in the world and I won't let him imply otherwise. And I'm sitting, so when he takes control -- which he already has -- and my legs turn to mush -- like they are now -- I can let his mouth prove my point to both of us -- which it so arrogantly... masterfully... is...
~
Several stops and nearly as many hours later -- complete with a few jealous fits and possessive "She's mine" public displays of affection -- and we're back in the apartment erecting our trees. Well, Jaimin and Aricin are, while Caressa gives direction and I sit on the couch with my feet up and a mug of hot chocolate in my hands. We ran into his parents while shopping, and Jaimin wasn't too cocky to think he could manage the monstrosity of pretentiousness that he chose on his own, so here we are. Here, where the perfect tree now stands perfectly straight in all of its perfect naked splendor. I think it will take us two days to decorate it. Two days and a ladder, which we also bought today, since I'll be needing one soon...
"It really is spectacular, darling," Caressa gushes at her son. "I'm quite impressed."
He gives her a cocky nod and a bow, making me laugh.
"It's nothing less than I would have expected," Aricin quips as he looks up at it, "Our son has always had an eye for grandiose perfection."
"An eye for, yes, but it always eluded me until a recent clear, bright, beautiful fall day."
"Oh, Mr. Guillory, the things you say... " I sigh, my neck heating under his love-filled stare.
"So, Claire, darling," Caressa starts as she sits beside me, smiling at her enraptured first born. "Tell me about your Christmas traditions."
"I don't really have any," I answer, still unable to take my eyes from him.
Aricin waves his hand in front of Jaimin's face, finally breaking the two-sided trance, and Jaimin flashes him an innocent, helpless smile. My eyes flit to Aricin as he gives his shoulder a fatherly squeeze and winks at me.
"Smirk from Mom, wink from Dad," I muse, "A lethal combination, indeed. Damn you both." They all laugh at my indirect admission of helplessness, and I stick my tongue out at them in response.
"Oh, I think you have a full arsenal of weaponry, Claire. My son is by no means unaffected."
Jaimin chuckles at his father as he crosses the room to where I sit, leaning down behind me to nuzzle my neck as he takes the mug from my hand. I shiver involuntarily at the contact, and then loss of, as he walks toward the kitchen.
With a warm, knowing smile, Caressa takes my hand in hers. "I'm not sure that any combination of things he got from us can in any way compare to what he's gotten from you. Those devilish smirks and winks may weaken your feminine sensibilities, but the pure happiness that emanates from him because of you is quite a powerful thing for his father and I to see. A weakening of another sort, but no less intense. We gave him life, and a few physical characteristics that you're perhaps fond of, but you've given him... " Her voice cracks with emotion and trails off, her words unfinished as she pulls me against her in a crushing hug.
It's not the first time she's shown me affection by any means, but the intensity and quickness of it catches me off guard. So much so that it must show on my face because Jaimin has returned and morphed instantly into protective mode, pulling me from her and to my feet. "You're suffocating her."
"Come on, sappy," Aricin teases, taking her hand and pulling her up from the couch, "You know how much our son doesn't like to share."
"No, I don't," he declares, wrapping his arms around me, "Thank God Alaina's coming home this week to give you someone else to focus on."
"You wish, darling. I have enough attention for all of you." The smirk appears on her face, and Aricin chuckles and grabs her coat. "There's no getting rid of me."
"We could move," Jaimin whispers in my ear.
"No," I laugh softly, snuggling against him and pulling his arms tighter around me, "It's too special here to ever leave."
I can't see his face, but I feel how my simple words have affected him. I feel it in his arms, in his breath on my hair, in the rise and fall of his chest against my back.
And in Aricin and Caressa's understanding smiles as they say their goodbyes and close the door behind themselves, leaving us alone.
"Tell me why, Claire."
"Why it's special?"
"To you, yes."
"Lots of reasons."
"Please tell me?"
"Okay." He lets me unwrap myself from him, his eyes pleading as I take his hand. "Come sit with me?"
He nods innocently, letting me lead him first to the door -- where I turn the lock, making him smile -- then to our place in front of the fire.
"Wait," he says, just as I start to pull him down, and lets go, rushing from the room. He's back within seconds with an armful of soft blankets, and hurries to spread them out. When he's finished, he reaches his hand out with "Okay, now."
"You really are adorable, you know." I pull him to the floor with a You melt me smile.
"No, that's you. Stop stealing my words."
"Share, not steal. And your words are one of the reasons it's special. You've said many things to me here, Jaimin." I look to the still-bare space where my face once hung and back to him. "You shared your dreams with me here. Shared them and then told me I'd surpassed them. Right here on this spot. Our spot. This little nest of heaven that you built again and again. Where you've shown me sweetness. Kindness. Tenderness. Selflessness. Generosity. Vulnerability... "
"I think I've shown you other things on this spot that weren't... "
"Yes you have, but those other things were just a layer of that vulnerability. Your need to control is part of that. Your need to possess. Dominate...
I understand you. Well, I try to. What you need. Why you need it.
How many times have I said it? It's not black and white with you. Nothing is. It's who you are. I know that. I've always known it. And I didn't run from it.
I made that choice right here in this room, just feet away from where we are now. Without you here to stop me. I knew I was where I belonged. I knew it. Not because someone told me. Not because you told me. I knew. My heart knew.
You brought me here. Again and again and again. Different versions of me. Every time I entered this space I was different. More yours.
Because of your words.
I hear you. I may not always hear you clearly, but I hear every word you say. And I see... I see everything. I see what you want. I see what you need. I see what you give me. Everything. You give so much more than you ask for. And you've given so much of it to me here.
You gave me your heart right there on that couch. Although I know I already had it...
You gave me a place for me right down that hallway behind us. Your place. You shared it with me. All of this...
You.
You let me tell you I loved you. In the middle of your kitchen. A sacred place... where I have a spot. I don't want more than that in there... " I pause and let out a small laugh, "It's yours. But still you shared it. You let me say the words... You made me stay to hear yours...
You fed me in that kitchen.
You made me oatmeal in that sacred place.
This place.
Your home. That you shared with me. Made mine. Ours.
And tonight...
You carried my sad little tree in here like it was a priceless treasure and put it before nature's perfection...
Put it first, like you always do with me.
Me, who you fought with to make you understand.
Me, who you fought for on a night when I didn't.
Here.
This is a special place, Jaimin. For those reasons and probably a thousand more. To me, the only person you've ever shared it with."
His eyes tell me that I've taken his words from him. Replaced them with speechless awe.
And his mouth, that isn't in this moment capable of speech, tells me everything else as it crashes against mine.
~
"Have I ever told you that you are absolutely adorable?"
"Definitely. But I like it, so don't stop saying it."
"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that ever happening. Something tells me the inspiration will always be present."
"Presents?"
"Like that," he chuckles. "ADORABLE."
I flutter my lashes at him and unwrap my just-finished garland from around my neck and string it around my tree with a smile. "How does it look?"
"Very nice. I can't say I've ever seen marshmallow garland before."
"Little Claire's invention, a very long time ago."
He picks her up from where she lies next to me and smiles. "Aaah... is that why she's wearing some? And you?"
"We aren't wearing garland, Mr. Guillory, that would be silly. We're very serious girls, these are our pearls."
"My apologies, Misses Beaulieu. Forgive me."
"There's nothing to forgive. Now, watch as I create a masterpiece."
He looks on lovingly as I sift through the ornaments that surround me. Thousands of them, it seems. That we picked out together in shop after shop, for our two perfect trees. I even dragged him into a craft shop for some plain ones that I want to hand paint, something I do every year for people special to me. But for now, I'm just looking for a few -- all my little tree can hold -- that are light enough for its delicate branches.
I try ornament after ornament, but everything is too heavy, and I'm getting frustrated. I was sure I'd gotten a few that would have worked, if I could only find them in this mess, which I can't seem to do.
"I'm not sure we bought anything light enough. I thought we had, but I can't find them in all of this. Let's start the other tree, then maybe we'll come across them. If not, I have some at the house, maybe it will have to just wait until tomorrow... "
"Mind if I try something?" he asks, sweetly stroking my hair.
"Of course not."
"May I borrow your thread?"
I pick up the spool of silver thread I was using for my marshmallow garland and put it in his hand. He puts little Claire in mine and jumps up. "I'll be right back."
I watch him as he walks away, down the hall, instead of to the kitchen, where I thought he might have been headed. I don't know what he could have found in there to make an ornament out of, but his chef's creativity never ceases to amaze me, so it's what I expected. I can't imagine what he could find in our bedroom, either, if that's where he was headed, but since he's now coming back empty-handed, perhaps his mission was unsuccessful.
"It's okay. It can wait. Let's get started on your pride and joy."
"YOU are my pride and joy. And I do have something, you just can't see it yet. Patience, my sweet."
I make a gesture of zipping my mouth closed and look up at him expectantly. He shakes his head and leans down to unzip it. "No, beautiful, I want it open."
"Really?" I ask, and open it wide, eyeing his position before me.
He laughs and shakes his head again. "Not for that. Not yet."
"Okay," I pout, making him smile as he lowers himself to his knees beside me.
"Such a pretty lip... " he sighs, "but as pretty as it is, I hope to take it away."
"A kiss might do the trick. If you see fit to indulge me, of course."
"I'd like nothing more than to indulge you, forever if you'll let me."
"I will, I assure you. I'll even put it in writing if you'd like."
"I think I would like that. I'll get my book after I indulge you and adorn your tree." His lips brush softly against mine for a few brief seconds before he pulls away with deep, serious eyes. I would pout at the brevity of his kiss if it weren't for the raw vulnerability I see looking back at me.
He takes a deep breath and reaches into his pocket, an innocent smile turning up the corners of his mouth. Whatever is in his hand is small enough to be contained within it, and all I can see is the delicate silver thread as he hangs it over the highest branch. His demeanor tells me it's something sweet and I hold my breath with anticipation. I still can't see what it is as he slowly lowers his hand down the length of the thread, but the weight of it is enough to bend the weak branch nearly straight down.
"Hmmm... " He purses his lips thoughtfully as he re-positions the thread at the base of the branch. "A slight miscalculation of weight, perhaps."
"Perhaps," I giggle sweetly as he lowers his hand again and the branch dips downward a second time. "And I'm anxious to see your adornment, but I don't think my little tree is sturdy enough to handle... " My mouth drops open and my words turn into a strangled gasp as his hand falls away.
"Are you?" he asks, tilting my chin up with a trembling finger, so that my eyes meet his.
My eyes that are filling with tears while my mouth struggles to bring air into my lungs. Struggles. Hard and unsuccessfully...
"Oh God... please don't pass out again. I thought... "
I shake my head furiously at his misunderstanding and grab his hand as he pulls the dangling diamond from the tree with a tortured expression on his beautiful face. I still can't catch my breath, but I need him to understand that it's from pure shock and happiness and nothing else.
I stand and pull him to his feet, and look up at him with pleading eyes. "No... " I manage, but he misunderstands that, too, before I get another word out.
"I'm sorry, Claire... "
"Damn it, Jaimin, pay attention! SORRY? Sorry for what? LOOK AT MY FACE! DO I NOT LOOK HAPPY TO YOU?"
"Right this minute? Well... I don't know about happy, sweetheart, but you've finally managed SCARY... "
I pout at his exaggerated shudder, and the knowledge that I've ruined the moment that he made so breathtakingly sweet. He laughs and takes my face in his hands, the adorned thread hanging from his finger. "Why the pretty lip again?"
"Because I ruined it."
"You didn't ruin anything. I didn't do it right."
"Don't say that. It was perfect. I screwed it up."
"Don't cry, Claire. Happy tears I can handle, but not these." He wipes at the tears on my cheeks with his thumbs as he pulls my face closer to his, the ring swaying with his movement. "You didn't screw it up, I did by not looking hard enough. And by being afraid that I wouldn't see the answer I wanted if I did."
"But you already know... "
"No... I don't know. I thought... I hoped... but I don't know. I can't, Claire. I can't presume that much. I'm not that arrogant."
"You can be. You could... if you just look. I know what you'll find, and so do you. I know you do. Let yourself see it."
"I'm sorry he's not the one that asked you. I really did it wrong... "
"Stop talking about him like he isn't you. And I don't recall being asked a question."
"Actually you were. Maybe not the right one, but... "
"I am sturdy enough, Jaimin. Haven't I proven that to you yet? I'm still here. Still in one piece. You haven't broken me. But you will if you take it back. I don't care who asks... I don't care which one of you says the words... as long as one of you does. If you need to bring him here to see what you can't, then do it, but I promise you it's there. Waiting to give you what you want."
"I don't know who's here now... we're all humbled by you... but I see the answer, Claire. It is written all over your beautiful face... but I need to hear it. Please."
"ASK ME."
"You know what I'm asking... "
"Yes, your question is brilliantly clear, and blindingly bright... but the spoiled brat that you adore wants more than just to see this time. Only you can give me what I never wanted to hear... never, until now. Only you can give me the beautiful words. Please don't deny me that. You said you wanted to give me everything. You said you needed to. Well, I'm asking you for something now. Give me the words, Jaimin. I want them."
"I don't know what you want to hear. I feel like you have high expectations... and you should. You deserve something beautiful, and special, but I've already blown that... "
"No... "
"Believe me, Claire, I've thought about this moment a thousand times. More...
What I would say...
The perfect romantic setting...
The perfect ring...
Well, maybe all isn't lost, but only an idiot would put it on a thread and hang it from a tree. Fuck, you should say no... " His voice trails off and he buries his face in his hands in frustration.
I pushed him too far. I asked for too much. I could have just said yes...
He would have been happy.
But I didn't do that.
I was selfish.
Spoiled brat storms are so much worse than raging jealous or angry ones. They appear gentle... harmless... but they wash away everything in their path. Even if they go as quickly as they came... they leave destruction and hurt once they've gone.
"Jaimin... " I pull his hands from his face and lift it to mine, the ring still dangling in fantastic splendor. "You're not an idiot. And what you did? I couldn't ask for a more perfect moment. It took my breath away... you just misinterpreted it. It was beautiful, and sweet, and adorable, and I'm sorry I asked for more. I don't need more. You asked me a question... the answer is yes. You don't have to ask me another one. But just so we're clear... I would never, EVER, say no. Not to you. Only one answer exists for you, and that's... "
"Wait!"
"No. I said I don't need it, and I mean it... "
"No, Claire. I'm not going to let you do that. You won't bend. Not this time. You want it. You have every right to want it. You have every right to ask for it. You have every right to demand it, and I won't let you give it up. Not for me. Me, who wants just as much as I want to give you. You think I'm selfless, but I'm not. I'm not at all. I want this. I want it more than anything. I want it so much that I didn't think. I forgot about all of my plans. Because I couldn't see past my want. Couldn't think beyond it. Couldn't put you first...
I'm sorry for that, but it's too late now. I can't undo it, or go back and make it perfect for you. All I can do is try to make it up to you. And I will try, Claire. For the rest of my life I'll try. I'll try to do everything better. Damn it, I'm still fucking it up... " He drops to his knees and looks up at me helplessly.
It breaks my heart into a million pieces. And makes me smile just a little, too. "I think it's only supposed to be one knee."
"I actually do know that... " He gives me a wink, but without its usual cockiness. "But you deserve both."
I shake my head but he doesn't give me the chance to speak, as he takes my hands in his. "YES. I know you love me, but I also know I don't deserve that love. I want it. I'll take it selfishly, but deserve it I don't. And this? I'm asking you for your life, to give it to me, share it with me, trust me with it... I can't stand before you and ask. I'm asking, but from a more worthy place. I'm not too proud to humble myself to you, not too arrogant. I'm just a man who loves a woman he doesn't deserve to love. A woman who loves me so much in return that if I wasn't already on my knees before her, what I see in her eyes would put me here.
You put me here, Claire. Your beauty, that until I take my last, will suck the breath from me every time I see your face. Your eyes, that do steal souls. Mine belonged to you before you knew I existed. Your mouth... that challenges every ounce of my strength every day.
You put me here. You let me love you. You let me hold you. You let me in.
You trust me. You let me feed you. You let me touch you. You let me take care of you. And I know what that means. I know I'm bossy, and controlling, and completely overbearing... and you put up with all of it, and you still love me. You still stood here and asked me for words. Words that you're willing to answer, with the answer that I dream of. Words to make you mine forever.
I don't know what the perfect words are. I don't know what you wanted to hear me say, I only know what I feel. I want you. I want your face, I've wanted it since the first time I saw it. I want your eyes, and the way they see me. I want your mouth, and every unfiltered word that comes out of it... and God forgive me, every sweet one. I want your hands, your soft, delicate, brilliant hands... I want every perfect inch of you... I want it forever.
I want your heart. I want all of the love inside of it. I want your trust, that you place in me every day. I want your life. I watched you almost lose it... I almost lost you. I can't go through that again. I want you. I need you. I love you. You think I'm worthy... then give it to me, Claire. Give me you. Be my wife. Let me spend the rest of my life cherishing you and yours."
The tears are pouring from my eyes, and I hope with all of my heart that the love is, as well. That he sees it. Feels it. Knows it as he kneels so completely vulnerable before me... because, though I know my answer, I am unable to speak it.
I asked for the words. I asked and he gave them to me.
Pure.
Real.
Him.
His words...
His want.
His need.
His heart...
Wide open before me.
Waiting.
His soul...
Mine.
Bared.
And still I stand here looking down at him, while the tears stream mercilessly down my face...
Unable to utter a sound.
Not because I don't know...
Not because I don't want to...
I'd scream it if I could.
He knows that.
His eyes tell me he does.
He doesn't misunderstand.
Not this time.
He just waits.
I pull my hand from his and brush my fingertips over his lips.
He smiles at me.
I bend and place my mouth against his. A simple kiss. Gentle. Sweet. Chaste.
And still he waits.
I think his position is making it harder...
Unnerving me.
I try to pull him up, but he doesn't let me. "No, sweetheart. Not until you answer me."
My eyes plead with him as still I pull, but he doesn't relent. He merely shakes his head.
I open my mouth again, but sound eludes me. It frustrates me. Makes the tears fall harder. Makes me stomp my feet in a child's tantrum.
He only laughs and lightly trails his fingers up and down my legs. "It's okay. I know you want to. I'll wait until you can."
I touch his lips again and nod my head, silently giving the answer he's waiting for, pleading desperately for him to accept it.
"I know, beautiful... but I need to hear it."
I grip his arms with both hands this time and pull with all of my strength, but it still doesn't budge him, only making his eyes sad. "Why do you want me up, Claire?"
The only answer I can give him is to try again, and again be denied.
"Is it easier for you to give me what I want when I'm towering over you?"
I mouth the word "Maybe" and he shakes his head. "That's not what I want. I know you want him, but I promise he's already here. We're all here. All asking. All waiting to give you the world if you can just say one word. You can, sweetheart. And you will, when you're ready."
"I am ready."
The words came without thought. They flowed right out without my trying. And they made him smile. I want him to smile wider.
"Yes. A thousand times yes. From my eyes, which I believe you can see. From my mouth, which you can finally hear. From the bottom of my heart to the top... yes. And I'll give it to you with my hands if you want it. I'll paint it, bright and bold on a canvas. I'll paint it every day...
Yes, Jaimin. I'm sorry you had to wait for it. I can't explain why... "
"You don't have to."
I try again to pull him up, but still he resists, reaching up to grab my face in his hands. He pulls it to his and kisses me so fiercely that I forget how to breathe and have to pull away. But not far...
My gasping-for-breath mouth is just inches from his as my brain registers the thread still dangling from his hand on my face. "You're still doing it wrong."
"You say that now, but your pretty mouth told me otherwise just a few seconds ago."
"Yes it did, but now my pretty mouth wants you to put a pretty ring on my pretty finger."
"I told you I was an idiot."
"And I said you're not. Now, do it."
"You're adorable," he beams.
"Adorable wants to be adorned."
He chuckles and breaks the thread, taking my hand in his like it's a priceless, fragile treasure he's afraid of breaking.
"I'm not as delicate as I look. Sturdy, remember?"
He nods with love-filled eyes as he slips it on my finger. I gaze down at it in awe and then again at his face as I try one more time to pull him up. He lets me this time and the words come easy, their truth carrying them straight from my overflowing heart...
"I love you."
"I know."
"It just overwhelms me sometimes."
"I understand that now."
"That's good, and don't forget, because who knows how many times it will happen again in forever."
"I won't forget."
"And Jaimin?" I look up at him as the tears start to fall again.
"Yes, beautiful?" he asks, gently wiping them away.
"You are worthy. I know you don't think so, but you are. I want you to learn that for me. I want you to believe it. Know it. And know that you're not the only one... "
He starts to speak, to cut me off -- undoubtedly to refute me in some way -- but I place my fingertips against his lips. There's one more thing I need him to hear...
"It will be my humble honor to be your wife."
