They're sitting in the conservatory, the heady scent of flowers permeating the air; a lazy smile plays at the corner of his lips as he turns a benevolent eye to the two lovebirds exchanging languid kisses only a few feet away from him, and it lingers there for longer than he cares to admit. The sunlight filtering through the glass walls has set fire to Martin's auburn hair, and it catches on the pendant that is resting lightly on Theresa's chest; he remembers being young too, a long time ago, and his smile turns a bit wistful as he's reminded that he's not, anymore.
He watches as Theresa tucks an orchid flower behind Martin's ear, then threads another through her own hair. Ah, love – he thinks to himself, and he barely notices when she closes the distance between them, leaning over him with a soft smile on her face.
Her eyes are merry with silent laughter as she presses a creamy flower onto his palm, and her cherry lips at the corner of his mouth. He lets out a shaky breath, closes his eyes to better enjoy the warmth of her caress; he really shouldn't, and he honestly can't understand, but for a moment there he simply allows himself to be.
When he opens them again he glances over to Martin, and what he sees there makes it suddenly difficult for him to remember how to breathe. Soon enough another set of lips find their way to the curve of his mouth, and he gives himself over in sweet surrender.