Disclaimer: Don't own anything! The words in bold are from an email I got, saying how little kids describe love.

Author's Note: Spring break, finally! Been watching a lot of thief movies and sketching, but I finally decided to sit down and write, if only just to exercise my brain because I'm at a bit of a block on most of my other stories. And I've been pretty mean to Shelos, so I wanted to write something a little happier for them.

Megacon this weekend and I can't wait! We're also seeing Wicked right afterwards, so my Saturday is gonna be awesome.

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Love is when you can be your true self with someone, and you only want to be your true self because of them. ~Terri Guillemets

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When someone loves you, they say your name different. You just know that your name is safe in their mouth.

She's the first one that calls him Zelos. Just Zelos. Even Seles doesn't do that anymore. Though sometimes, when she's angry, she'll call him Wilder. He can't bring himself to mind because she never ever uses his title (Not until after she comes back from Sylvarant and things have changed between them just enough that they're a little uncomfortable with each other).

Sheena has an accent. It isn't obvious. Most of the time, it was impossible to tell, but Zelos knows her, hears her voice every day and can pick out the stressed vowels and the carefully pronounced syllables. Sometimes, it gets really noticeable. Usually when there's double fudge brownies involved.

The first time Zelos pointed it out, Sheena's cheeks had pinked and she'd grabbed another brownie.

Love is when you go out to eat and give somebody most of your French fries without making them give you some of theirs.

Sheena finds him hiding from the party in a secluded balcony. His first instinct is to ask her how she found him—no one knew about this balcony—but then he sees what's in her hands and his question changes. "Anything for me?"

Sheena rolls her eyes, slipping down to sit next to him—an impressive feat in heels and a formal gown—and holding out the large plate. "Yes, there's the chocolate covered mangos you like so much, even if I don't get why."

Zelos beams at her, taking one of the aforementioned mango slices and slipping it in his mouth. He found it a little strange that Sheena knew him well enough that she could bring him food that he liked without asking or being asked. The rest of the plate has strawberries, a stack of crackers, shrimp and several strips of meat and peppers on skewers.

They sit on the balcony all night, leaning against the wall, legs outstretched and the plate of food resting on both their thighs. Sheena's heels are neatly placed against the wall and they speak on every subject and sometimes, there are long lapses of comfortable silence in which they just stare at the wall, in Sheena's case, or out the window at the stars in Zelos' case.

They both reach for the plate at the same time and they both glance down when they see that there's only one strawberry left, some chocolate from the mangos sticking to it. Zelos thinks about taking it, but pushes the plate towards Sheena.

"I'm full." He claimed at her arched eyebrow.

Love is when you kiss all the time. Then, when you get tired of kissing, you still want to be together and talk some more.

"Maybe your reputation wasn't completely a lie." She says once she can breathe again.

Zelos smirks at her, lying back against the pillows. She's lovely like this, all gently tanned skin and loose hair. "That wounds me, darling, that you could ever think that."

Sheena rolls her eyes, leaning against him. He's warm all the time, like the fire of his wings was trapped inside his body. "Somehow, I'm sure you'll live."

"Such cruelty. You'd think that you'd be a little nicer after all this."

Sheena snorts and it's undignified and decidedly unladylike, but Zelos can never bring himself to mind because Sheena never wanted to be a lady and she's not perfect, but she's fine just the way she is because he's hers and she's his.

Love is when you tell a guy you like his shirt and then he wears it every day.

The first time she comes downstairs in the shirt, his heart beat three times too fast. The shirt was faded white and a little thin and he knows that there's a hole at the seam on the left side, hardly noticeable. There's a loose string on the sleeve that he liked to play with when he collected his thoughts and the shirt is two sizes too large on her, falling to her thighs.

Sheena sees his look, but doesn't understand it (It's something purely male and she long ago stopped trying to decipher those sorts of things). She shrugs. "Your shirts are more comfortable than mine."

She gets into the habit of stealing his shirts. They're always the old button-down ones that are soft from too many washes and their colors are fading, if they have color at all. She never wears them outside of the mansion, but Zelos is quietly pleased every time she comes down for breakfast wearing one.

Love is what makes you smile when you're tired.

"So I couldn't sleep," Zelos begins conversationally like it wasn't one in the morning. He doesn't worry whether he'd woken Sheena or not. She'd been awake since the moment he turned the doorknob. "And that got me to thinking. And somewhere along the way, my thoughts got on coffee."

"Then make yourself a pot." Sheena said sleepily, not raising her head from the pillow, not even opening her eyes.

"That's what I thought. And I actually went to make myself one, but then I realized that I was craving the coffee from that little place down in the market district."

Sheena gives in to the fact that she's not going to be able to go back to sleep and rolls on her side, cracking open her eyes to look at him. He's half-draped in shadows, leaning on her doorframe. His eyes are bright points of blue hovering in the dimness.

"Zelos, you do realize that they're closed? Sane people are asleep at one in the morning."

A flash of a grin. "What does that say about you then, darling?"

"I was asleep. You woke me up." Sheena pushes the thought that accompanies that back (She'd been timid before she met him. Didn't like to meet people's eyes, didn't like to speak up. Then he'd come along and, just like now, woke her up and managed to infect her with his confidence, with his mischief.)

Zelos shrugs. "So I'm just a little more insane than you. Besides, it's a nice night and we're both awake. Come for a walk with me?"

Sheena debates with herself for less than half a second—her bed was really comfortable—but says, "Give me a minute to change. I'm not dressed."

Zelos' eyes gleam. "You're not dressed?"

Sheena glares playfully at him and throws a pillow so he backs out of her room. "You know what I mean. Just go."

His laughter echoes off the walls as Sheena slips on some old jeans—holey and well-faded—and clips a bra on before replacing her sleep shirt. She isn't surprised to see him waiting at the front door, still in the sweatpants that double as pajama pants and a black T-shirt.

At her look, he just says, "What? It's not like anyone else will be out there at this time of night." He grins. "Sane people are so boring."

Sheena can't help but laugh and agree.