"So, you're saying you want to go back to your high school reunion just so you could somehow make up for the prom you missed?"

"Well…yeah, essentially."

"Annie, that's the stupidest thing I have ever heard. You don't go to reunions to re-live anything. You go to school reunions to rub your money and success into people's faces."

Her reflection rolled her eyes in the bathroom mirror as she slowly and meticulously removed her make-up. She could hear Jeff's soft footsteps as he padded around the bedroom outside putting away his jacket and scarf.

"Either way, my fifth year reunion is a pretty formal event. They're having it at some fancy hotel downtown…" Here she hesitated, taking her time to unscrew the top off her night moisturizer. She chewed her bare bottom lip before taking a breath,

"I told them I'd be bringing a date."

"…Annie, you did not." She heard the springs on their bed groan slightly; he had just sat down heavily. The words came bubbling out of her mouth, rapid and high-pitched as it did whenever she knew she did something wrong.

"Well, I'd just look so stupid showing up there alone and seemingly single. No one will believe me if I told them I'm seeing someone! They all remember me as crazy, psycho Annie Adderrall who catapulted herself through the cafeteria doors. They'll probably just roll their eyes and assume my "boyfriend" is just a Ken doll I carry around."

There was silence from the other end, and Annie finally put back her moisturizer in the medicine cabinet. She stared at her reflection, her eyes wide with anxiety waiting for Jeff to speak, for the retort in that scathing tone he's perfected over the years in the group. Jeff hated these social events, especially when there was no promise of personal gain to be obtained. She knew this all too well – Jeff wouldn't even willingly attend her own parties if she didn't promise him various forms of sexual activity when the night was over. (He usually forces her to put it down in writing – he was a lawyer after all, he knew verbal contracts are never binding.) She was very aware she would be treading on thin ice when she filled out the invitation; her hand had shook as it tends to do whenever she was aware she was doing something wrong. She released a resolute sigh and decided it was time to face the beast. She removed the towel from her body and quickly grabbed Jeff's old Packers t-shirt from the hamper and slipped it over her head.

As softly as she could, she opened the bathroom door. Wincing slightly, bracing herself, she looked around the room and her eyes found his long legs dangling from the side of the bed, his naked torso just barely visible every so often, rising with every breath he took. She could see his reflection from their dresser mirror across from their bed, his arms were crossed behind his head and she could see he was awake, contemplating their ceiling.

"Jeff?"

She saw him close his eyes at the sound of his name, and she stepped forward across the carpet towards him.

"Jeff, if you really don't want to go, it's ok. I'll have Troy, he'll—"

"Did you miss your prom because you were in rehab?"

"What?" Annie startled at the interruption, and it took a moment for her to comprehend what he said.

"Yes. I had left a few months before senior prom…Jeff, it's ok. I'll let them know tomorrow that it will just be me. I don't want to force you…"

"I'll go."

"Y-you will?" She startled; her eyes riveting to the eyes in the mirror, afraid she had heard incorrectly.

He sat up and leaned his elbows on his knees, "Yes, I'll go."

"Jeff, thank you!" She squealed and did a skip and turn before leaping across the distance to throw her arms around his bare shoulders.

His arms cradled her small body to his chest and smiled into her hair is it fell about around his face. The smell of her jasmine shampoo wavered around his head as he wrapped her legs around his waist and stood up with her from the bed. She squealed slightly at the sudden elevation and tightened her grip around him. Shifting her weight to a more comfortable position on his hip, he grabbed a remote from their bedside table and turned on their Ipod dock. Soon, the crooning of Matt Nathanson swelled throughout their bedroom.

Slowly, he rocked her in his arms; his low voice humming along with the soft melody. Her cheek was pressed against his neck, and the vibrations coursed through her skin, tickling her, soothing her. She didn't dare breathe; this moment was completely unscripted – part of her refused to believe it was real. It was too perfect, too delicate. She clung to him like a lost animal seeking shelter and protection from the raging storm. One of his hands cupped her bottom, the other bracing her back, keeping her pressed to him as he drew masterpieces and portraits of sunsets and rainfalls on her back – releasing every knot and tension that manifested themselves into the sinews of her spine as she went about her days. She sighed, closing her eyes and letting the gentle acoustics and the radiating heat from Jeff overwhelm her, liquidating her senses.

His feet began to rotate and turn before he gained momentum and his steps became a waltz, all the while singing the words in a voice barely audible underneath the one emitting from the speakers. Sometimes saying the words rather than singing – the ones where it mattered most to him.

If the walls could talk, they would describe the rays of incandescent happiness that illuminated the room coming from the two people who looked as if they would never let each other go.

She gently unwound her legs and softly touched the carpet with her toes. Her arms still tight around his neck, she lifted her eyes and naturally met his –cerulean piercing sapphire. His hand expertly cupped her chin and tilted it upwards as his lips met hers halfway. They swayed to the motions of the song; Jeff reached for her hand and spun her; her laughter lost in breathless whirls.

Her arms reached up as his slid down, they never had to overcompensate with one another; they both knew what the other needed, and how much.