After Paris

Richard woke up, feeling slightly disoriented for a second. He was in a comfortable bed, and it was surprisingly quiet, no scratching in the walls or loud neighbours. It was an odd feeling. But when he turned around, the sight that met him was one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen; there, asleep with her shoulder length red hair spread out in a mess, was the woman he had spent the past few months dreaming about. He had been haunted by images of her at night, and he spent his days looking at her sitting right in front of him on the other side of the desk. He had asked himself multiple times why he was doing this to himself: it was torture being around her all the time, knowing he couldn't have her.

Nothing good ever happened to him. It was like a rule of life or something. But as he recalled everything that had happened last night, all the misery he'd been through in the past suddenly seemed so insignificant. He still couldn't quite believe it, and he felt like he should probably stare at her while he still had the chance to. Any moment now he could wake up, or she would wake up and tell him she'd made a mistake. He couldn't bear to think about it.

It had been the most amazing night of his life. He had held her in his arms, and touched her soft skin, and listened to her sweet voice. He'd been able to express his love for her, and show her just how beautiful she was. He'd kissed her and touched her and admired every inch of her body, thinking that she was the true definition of the word "perfect". But what he had loved the most was seeing, and feeling, the effect he was having on her. He used to have nightmares about touching her and then watching her retreat in disgust, or simply being inadequate, but the reality had been so different; it had been magical. He had wanted her so badly his head had been spinning half the time, but she had brought out things he didn't even know he had in him; a level of love and passion he had never felt before. He had no idea sex could be like this, and now that he knew he never wanted to look back. He'd just made love to a woman he was so in love with it was actually painful at times, and the thought of not doing that for the rest of his life seemed incomprehensible to him now; as incomprehensible as not breathing, actually.

He continued to gaze at her beautiful face, just watching her breathe, and it was taking his breath away. His life suddenly had meaning, which was an unfamiliar feeling, and it made his heart soar. At the same time, it absolutely terrified him. He had been running from this his whole life, and now Caroline had made it impossible for him to run any longer. He was completely and utterly helpless now.

He was just lying there, deep in thought, when she slowly stirred and opened her eyes. His heart made a small leap, and for a moment he stopped breathing, expecting the worst like he always did. But then she turned her head to face him, and her lips formed the sweetest smile he had ever seen, which caused his whole body to ease up.

"Hey you," she murmured, reaching out to gently touch his face. He responded by taking her hand in his, lacing their fingers together.

"Good morning," he replied, and he couldn't stop himself from smiling back at her. She was gorgeous, the expression on her face warm and affectionate, and just when he had thought he couldn't possibly love her more, life proved him wrong. Again.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked softly, her eyes curious, searching his for answers.

"I'm thinking about how beautiful you are," he said, and he could see her choke back a small gasp, before her eyes went blank with tears.

"And I'm also thinking about how terrified I am at the thought of messing this up."

"Richard…" she whispered. "What makes you think you're going to mess this up?"

He sighed, and sat up slowly. She followed, wrapping the sheet around herself in the process.

"I always mess things up. It's what I do. Something always goes wrong, and mostly I bounce back, but it's different this time. You mean more to me than anything, or anyone, else ever has, and I cannot imagine my life without you."

A few tears rolled down her cheeks, and she quickly wiped them away. "Richard, you're not going to mess up. I don't see how you possibly can."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because you make me feel like the most beautiful girl in the world…" she began.

"That's because you are," he interjected.

She let out a small chuckle, slapping his arm lightly. "Oh, shush. It's amazing to me. That's all. No one has ever made me feel like that before. And I'm falling in love with you."

His heart skipped a beat, and his eyes widened slightly. "Really?"

"Yeah. You're the most wonderful person I've ever known." She finally inched closer to him, putting her hand on his cheek as she leaned in to capture his lips with hers. Kissing her made his heart race, and he wondered if it would ever stop doing that.

They broke apart and gazed at each other for a few moments, and then Caroline's smile started creeping back onto her face.

"You also gave me Paris for Christmas," she said softly. "And I'm not just talking about the painting," she continued playfully, poking his shoulder as she giggled, with the most adorable smirk on her face. He shook his head at her, but he couldn't help but chuckle at how ridiculous she sometimes was.

Dear god, I love her. If you're there, please let me love her forever.