There was a picture on the mantelpiece nestled between two ticking clocks and framed in beautifully polished mahogany. Monroe smiled each time he passed it and often ran a finger along the border as he delved into the memory.
He found her brewing tea; she wore one of his lounging cardigans that hung loosely around her hips, and her hair fell in soft ringlets across her shoulders. He cradled her from behind.
"You're beautiful," he murmured, his hands sitting comfortably on her hips. She leaned into his chest, resting the back of her head against his broad shoulders.
"I shape up alright," she smiled over the rim of her cup.
"More than alright," he told her, kissing the sensitive skin below her ear. She closed her eyes, pushing herself further into his hold. "Rosalee, you're the most beautiful woman I've ever met. I mean that."
He took the cup from her hands, placing it down and turned her body to face his. He took her chin between thumb and finger; her eyes were soft and warming and he left her hands lightly massage his forearms.
"I never thought I deserved somebody like you," he began, brushing a curl behind her ear. "You're everything I lusted when I was younger. You're everything I made impossible for my younger self to hold onto. There's times when I question-"
She held a finger to his lips, shushing him and her hands found his face. "If I'm as precious as you say, Monroe, then you deserve one hundred of me." Her fingers trailed his jaw line, relaxing him enough to close his eyes as she lulled him into a soothing state. "Moving to Portland was a big deal for me after Freddy died. I didn't know whether I'd be able to hold myself together enough not to fall into the past."
She could see his eyes flicker beneath his lids and she knew he understood her. There had been a dark time in her past when every waking moment was consumed with getting her next hit of opiates. It wasn't often that she revisited those memories- only when Monroe was around. She needed his arms to keep her from falling
"Then you came along in all your glory into the Spice Shop and you consumed my every waking moment. I found you on my mind even during the simplest of activities."
Monroe's eyes opened a crack. He leaned forward, his lips meeting hers softly at first; she tasted of chocolate and cream. Her lips were soft and plump against his own and her hands against his neck felt warm and smooth.
She was the epitome of his life; she was the very reason he woke each morning with a smile; she was the reason he walked with a spring in his step and she was his everything.
A clicking sound and a bright flash startled their embrace. Looking to the kitchen door they saw Nick grinning back, a black camera in one hand and his other perched on the door frame.
"I know I always seem to interrupt your moments," he defended, "But… everyone deserves their memories, right?"
Monroe smiled at the memory. Nick had left the picture framed with a red bow on top and a 'thanks for housing me' posit-it note.
Four more days! Is it just me or is anyone else getting annoyed with Nick constantly interrupting our Monrosalee?