His hand lay content on her breast, slowly and tenderly caressing it, and he smiled when he felt her hand on his. He kept his attention on his painting, his brush whispering to the canvas. It kissed and caressed it, bringing it to life.
She took his hand in both of hers and lifted it to her mouth, dropping a kiss in his palm, and he turned toward her with a smile.
She lay there, eyes closed, a picture of serenity with her blonde locks encircling her face. She brought his hand to her cheek before bringing it back to her mouth. Her voice, her eyes, her touch always did the strangest things to him. Her whole being did the most beautiful things to his heart.
He returned to his painting and stared at it for a few moments. At a loss.
''I love you,'' she sighed, in between kisses.
With every word, with every sigh and caress, smile and kiss, she unmade and remade him.
He put down his brush and went to lie next to her on their bed. He brushed her hair from her forehead with his other hand.
''I love you too,'' he murmured, lips brushing her temple. He nuzzled her hair, breathing her. She smelled of spring and promises.
''Hey, I was thinking.''
''Tell me,'' he said, dropping a kiss on her cheek. He rested his head on her breast and her fingers went immediately to his hair, running through it, soothing him unknowingly.
Or maybe she knew.
''I was thinking that maybe we could go for a few days. Just you and me. Before the baby is born.''
''That would be lovely, sweetheart. Now, where do you want to go?''
''Anywhere. Everywhere.'' He could hear her smile. And he smiled back.
''Well, that's helpful.'' She laughed, shaking under him, and he reveled in the sound.
''It doesn't matter where, as long as I'm with you,'' she told him.
Yes. As long as they were together, everything would be fine.
And to say that he almost passed her by.
To think that he had dismissed her at first, not knowing that he had just met the greatest love of his life.
Looking back, he did not know when he fell in love with her. He remembered when he first saw her and decided that he would not like her. Remembered the first time he caught himself thinking that they could be friends after all and, later on, that they could be more than friends.
He remembered the first time their hands touched, innocent touches at first, the back of a hand brushing an arm, and then lingering touches. Caresses.
He remembered the first time he kissed her, taking her by surprise. Remembered how he reveled in her taste.
He remembered the first time she invited him in her bed, how he soared and crashed in her arms. Remembered how they clung to each other afterward, unable to let go.
But the exact moment he fell in love with her, foolishly, utterly – that, he could not pinpoint.
Maybe it was on his birthday when she presented him with a gift.
She had been full of smiles and hope, holding out her present with trembling hands. She had watched him as he ripped the paper, her big baby blue eyes full of expectation. She hoped he would like it, she had said.
And he did. He could not recall ever receiving a more beautiful gift.
Maybe it was then that he recognized the odd stirring of his heart. And perhaps that is why, confused, and just a little bit scared, he pretended he did not care for it, breaking her heart a little.
Or maybe it was that summer day when they lay sated on her bed, his head on her breast, her fingers combing through his hair, lulling him to sleep. And, as they lay in silence, moving from the comfort of her breast, he looked up at her face. Beautiful and serene, smiling down at him.
A smile full of tenderness and light and promises. A smile that chased away his fears and insecurities.
That smile, he would never forget, cherishing it and storing it in his heart. Perhaps it was then that he realized that he wanted all of her smiles and vowed to himself that he would collect them all.
And there were many more moments like these, moments when he looked at her in awe and wonder. And maybe he had finally come to acknowledge the fact that, from the moment he saw Caroline Forbes, it was the most infinite and the most delicious fall.
Looking back, it had all started when he decided that he would not like her.
What he did not know, at the time, was that Caroline was never one to back down from a challenge.
She was stubborn and neurotic and bright.
Brighter than a thousand suns.
And she loved him.
He was not supposed to befriend her and he certainly did not mean to fall in love with her. But deep down, he knew they were inevitable. All he had needed was a gentle push.
But then again, it was Fate.