"Danny…" I spoke softly, curious. "What's all this for?"
He grinned from behind me and put his hands on my shoulders, pushing me forward. "You know today's date, don't you?"
Realization hit me and I whirled around. "You remembered this time!" I teased. He didn't seem to mind my reference to last year, as he just grinned again.
"I did," he said, pulling my head closer to his to kiss me. I, though reluctantly, pulled away after a few seconds to look at the room again. The lights were off, but the living room was lit by candles, standing everywhere. On the table was a long vase with three roses in it, and two plates of what looked like Messer's famous spaghetti. It all looked – and smelled – perfect. Just like him.
"What are you thinking about?" he asked, trying to judge whether he'd done a good job or not.
I turned around to face him again. "I'm just thinking about how perfect this is. How perfect you are. How much I love you..."
I was the one pulling him closer this time, kissing him with all I had, trying to pour all of my love for him into our kiss.
"I love you," I mumbled, and I felt him smile against my lips.
"Happy birthday, Lindsay."