"Well this is quite the view," she murmured while looking out to the foggy ocean. "I can understand why you live here now."
"The view's the only reason I can stand the stairs," he replied as he joined her at the window with the two drinks. He handed her the wine and kept the scotch for himself.
"Why thank you." With glass in hand she walked over to the globe to the left of the window. "Another precious heirloom from the grand old Windsor handed down from Mary to Elizabeth?"
He chuckled, "Just a plain old globe Belle."
She closed her eyes and spun it, "I wouldn't say plain old. It's beautiful." She stopped it and placed a finger on- "Scotland. What a coincidence. Your turn."
He stepped beside her and followed her example, "If I land on Australia…" He opened his eyes once the globe stopped spinning. "Ahh the Atlantic Ocean, although I hear it's quite wet 365 days a year."
She rolled her eyes, "Try again."
"Italy."
"Why must you get the city of pasta while I get the cold, dreary marshland?" she teased.
"I'll have you know Scotland is a beautiful land of mystery and—."
"I'm joking! My, you sound like a tour guide," she sipped her drink and turned to the small bookcase in the living room. "You'll have to accompany me when I go so I don't get swindled."
He opened his mouth to mention her fiancé's probable feelings on this, but thought better of it and watched her examine the small supply of titles.
"Before you accuse me of having a poorly supplied library, I'll have you know these aren't all of them."
She sighed and turned around, "Good. I was about to be extremely judgmental of the house to library ratio."
He held out his hand, "Come along and we'll finish the tour. I saved it for last."
If she hesitated to take his hand, he didn't notice, but he did notice she was sans engagement ring. Again.
"Belle you seem to have misplaced your ring again," he teased with what he hoped sounded like a light-hearted and not elated tone.
A grimace crossed her features, "It's just so gaudy and, it's terrible to say, but if I'm not around him or people who are to going to question why I'm not wearing it… I'm not going to wear it. Does that make me a terrible person?"
"No, it doesn't," he murmured. It just means your fiancé is an idiot who doesn't even know what his future wife likes in jewelry, he wanted to add.
"I mean, I know it's a symbol of us being together, but I feel like he does a good enough job letting others know I'm 'his and off-limits,' that I don't even need the horrible ring." She rolled her eyes again. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be venting, but I really hate that damn ring and that he treats me like one of his prized deer, ready for a wall mounting."
He didn't know what lines he'd be crossing with the multitude of replies on his tongue, so he just opened the door they'd arrived at. He watched her expression turn from irritated to awed. She walked away from him and turned in a circle soaking up the view.
"How did you even fit all of these in here? How big is this room?"
He chuckled and left her to walk around the room several more times. These were the bittersweet moments he equally loved and hated. They always left a melancholy feeling behind when she was gone, but he decided to ignore that for the time being and instead enjoy her while he could.