Scarlet pulled herself out of his grasp and gently moved her legs off the side of the bed. The air in the room was cold, causing goose bumps to cover her arms and legs. Standing to pull on the pair of shorts she had discarded the night before, she turned to look at him. Wolf was still sound asleep. She crept out of the room with the smallest of smiles on her lips, her heart racing.

Today was the day. Well, sort of.

She tiptoed down the stairs and started brewing a pot of coffee, her port in her hand. She just had a few more things to finalize, to clear her comm inbox of any incriminating messages. Scarlet listened for the familiar yawn Wolf expelled every morning as soon as he woke up. She listened to him fumble around the room, make the short trek from the bedroom to the shower. It was all a routine; all according to plan.

She set about cooking breakfast–omelets today, she decided. She'd already had the onions and peppers chopped, so it was just a matter of cooking them.

Scarlet always found her thoughts drifting to the year prior. The time was so full of anxiety and fear and an overall sense of loss. The exact opposite of where they were now. Safe, home, happy. In love. It made her heart swell with joy.

She was just scooping the second omelet onto the plate when she felt him wrap his arms around her waist, the smell of his aftershave enveloping her, burying his nose in her curls and pressing a kiss against the top of her head.

"Omelets," said Wolf. "My favorite."

"I know," she said, pushing herself against him. "That's why I made them."

He pulled away from her and moved to the fridge, grabbing a jug of milk and a carton of strawberries to have on the side. "What's the occasion?"

She chuckled. "No occasion. I just wanted to make breakfast."

He studied her. "You make breakfast every morning."

Scarlet swiveled them away from the subject. "Will you wash and cut those strawberries? This last omelet is almost done."

Wolf complied, though his suspicion did not lift. He eyed her as he cut the pits out of the strawberries and ran them under the sink water. "You're up to something."

She gave him a confused look before placing their plates on opposite sides of the table, turning back to the counter to grab the coffee. "I made breakfast. I didn't know what was weird."

"That's not what I meant."

Scarlet sat their coffee on the table and began to hum as she reached around him to grab forks and knives out of the drawer, pecking his cheek as she did so. "That's enough strawberries. Come on, before the omelets get cold."

He split the cut fruit between their plates and they sat down, in silence for only a moment before a smile made its way across Scarlet's lips.

"So, I've been thinking, Z."

He looked up at her, a bit of strawberry juice on his chin. "So you are up to something," he accused, his words slurred from his full mouth.

"That's not what I said." She shifted to cross her legs, pricking her fork at the egg fluff. "We haven't really had a vacation in the last year, and I figure that since it's starting to get a little cold here, we could go somewhere warmer for a week or so."

"Where?"

She risked a glance at him. "Sydney, Australia."

"Sydney." His tone didn't betray any emotion but curiosity. "Why there?"

Scarlet shrugged. "I guess I was just thinking–the world is such a big place, why go somewhere we know?"

Wolf polished off the last of his first omelet and then started digging into the second. "Okay, good answer. Why the sudden idea to go on vacation?"

"Is it so bad to want to get away for a while? We can afford it. I've already booked the hotel and Émilie's agreed to watch the animals. I'm going whether or not you'll be joining me."

He shot her a smile. "I guess we're going on vacation."

The sunburn on her face had finally started flaking back into her naturally pale skin by the time the vacation came to a close. They'd spent the last week swimming, touring historical sites that the conservationists had restored, and snorkeling – among other things. But now it was their last full day in Sydney and they were sprawled out on the beach. The sun had already set and it was beginning to cool down, stars speckling the sky.

"I can't believe this week is over," Scarlet said, holding Wolf's arm to trace the scars that ran along it, her fingers outlining the blank skin where once there was a tattoo that indicated he'd belonged to Queen Levana.

She smiled at the memory of that wretched witch being taken down, and then she moved onto appreciate another scar, as if she didn't already know where each and every one was placed and what'd caused it.

There was an air of amusement in Wolf's reply. "It had to end eventually, Scar."

"Funny thing about time is it never stops."

A comfortable silence fell around the two as the last bit of sunlight drifted beneath the horizon, cloaking them in an almost darkness. The lights from the hotels and bars along the shoreline kept the night from being absolute.

Scarlet pulled herself to her knees and then moved so she was facing Wolf, sitting back on her heels. "So, I've been meaning to ask you something."

He propped himself up on his elbows. "What is it?"

Luna's light hit his emerald eyes in just the right way, making them glow past his dark skin.

Her heart fell into her stomach as she sucked in a deep, calming breath. She couldn't go back now–it was the whole reason for the vacation in the first place.

"Ze'ev…." Her voice trailed off and he quirked an eyebrow, his gaze intense upon her, curious. "Will you marry me?"

Scarlet watched him melt in front of her. The intensity in his eyes softened drastically, an unstoppable smile overtaking most of his face. He lunged up and wrapped his arms around her before falling back onto the sand, clutching her against him, chuckling all the way. "I thought you didn't believe in marriage?"

"I suppose things have changed."

He buried his hand in her curls and kissed her. She could still taste the salt from the gentle ocean breeze on his skin. "Of course I will," he said. "Of course." He kissed her once more. "Is that what all of this was about?"

"Partially." She smirked, brushing her lips across the scar on one corner of his mouth. "Okay, maybe mostly. I had a dream a few months ago where we were married. It was so vivid, I could've sworn that it was real. You wouldn't believe how disappointed I was when I woke up."

Her red curls whipped about behind her, the wind tangling them to almost irreparable amounts. He smiled up at her, like she was the only thing that mattered.

And maybe, for him, she was.

Author's Note: Yay! Happy, post-war Wolflet! Yay! That's all I have to say here. Is it summer break yet?