3B
Saturday mornings are her favorite.
The radio talk show he has on, the smell of coffee filling the air that hits her as soon as she opens the door, the smudge of flour on his cheek as he prepares pancakes that look lopsided and weird, it's her favorite.
The hours she spends huddled with him in apartment 3B flipping through the TV or digging through his drawers or curling up on his lap are her favorite.
The glint in his eye, the smile tugging at his lips, the warmth radiating from him that he doesn't have to hide here because he's not Mr. Fitz right now, he's just Ezra, they're her favorite.
3B, with its cluttered desk and always just a bit messy kitchen and walls plastered with posters and portraits, it's her favorite. She loves Saturday and this apartment and those posters and that messy kitchen and the fluffy pillows on the never made up bed and him.
They always have the curtains drawn on Saturdays. They aren't usually drawn. When she comes to visit on school nights, they're cast aside, and there's a pretty decent view of the town, of lights blinking merrily, of people walking around minding their own business, not knowing that there's a little piece of paradise right here in this modest apartment. Aria prefers the curtains drawn. She doesn't want anyone to catch a glimpse of her piece of paradise. People take what they want, she knows, and she doesn't want this taken from her.
She doesn't like to think about the masks they have to wear when they leave 3B. So she loses herself in this sweet oblivion until it's time to leave and face the world again.
At home, she tries to mimic the clutter of Ezra's desk on her own, tries to make pancakes as lopsided as his, tries to keep her curtains drawn tightly, but doesn't really manage to get it as perfectly as it's done over there.
And instead of being put out about that, she's ecstatic.
-FIN-