Easter Egg
By S. Faith, © 2009
Words: 900
Rating: K+ / PG
Summary: Easter morning surprises.
Disclaimer: Isn't mine.
Notes: Buona Pasqua to those what celebrate :)
He could not wipe the smile off of his face.
He held in his hands her Easter surprise, the specially crafted chocolate egg, inside of which he'd had a special gift placed, one he'd had his eye on for some time but hadn't had occasion to give her. He entered the bedroom, saw her sleeping all tangled up amidst the sheets, and his smile broadened. She was absolutely going to love it.
He set the egg down on the nightstand. Gently he lowered himself onto the mattress and slipped under the sheets, so as not to disturb her too suddenly. He lifted his fingers to brush her hair off of her face, then dipped down to give her a quick peck. Her eyes fluttered open, and upon lighting her gaze on his face, she smiled drowsily, a sight that never failed to cause his heart to skip a beat. "Morning," she said, her voice scratchy.
"Happy Easter, darling," he said.
She stretched out lazily and closed her eyes, laughing lightly. "Mmmm. All the happier as we get to spend it on our own."
He chuckled. They had managed to escape Easter festivities with her parents by dint of it being their first Easter as a married couple. "I have something for you."
"I hope it's coffee," she said.
"It's not," he said, reaching for the egg. "I think I can be forgiven though."
She opened her eyes just as he presented her with a cellophane-covered chocolate egg bigger than his outstretched hand—probably three-quarters the length of her forearm—and they broadened at the sight of it. "Oh my God! Mark! What is this?"
"It's a chocolate egg," he said, feeling saucy.
"Well, durr," she said, pushing herself up, eager to break into the egg. It had been carefully decorated with delicate sugared scrollwork reminiscent of the border of a medieval scroll. "It's too lovely to eat!"
"But you have to break it open," he said. "There's more to the egg than just chocolate."
She blinked rapidly, her mouth dropping open slightly. "Is this one of those eggs that's like… a huge Kinder egg?"
He laughed. "It is."
"Oooh." She pulled the cellophane away, tried pushing both of her thumbs through the side of the egg, but the chocolate was too thick for her to be able to do so. She was only able to break off some of the scrolled decoration. "Oh, bugger," she said, but picked up and popped the broken sugar bits into her mouth. She swivelled her head to look around herself; her eyes connected with the something just beyond him. She got to her knees, admonished him to bend out of the way, then smashed the edge of the egg against the corner of the nightstand. "Ha!" she exclaimed, sitting back again. Success. A hole had been punched into the chocolate; he should have thought to bring something to contain the chocolate shrapnel.
Sitting again, she broke off large chunks of chocolate, setting them on the cellophane, until the present inside, wrapped in gift paper and enclosed in a sealed plastic bag, was revealed. However, he furrowed his brow. The wrapped gift was much larger than it should have been.
She lifted it out, hurriedly opened the plastic bag and tore into the paper.
"Oh!" she said, holding up the gift; it was an old-fashioned-looking stuffed toy rabbit. It was made of a lush brown cotton velveteen (white on its stomach), had bright button-like eyes and yarn for whiskers. Her eyes were glossy with tears. "I love it!" He wondered about the look on his own face, though, because she turned very serious. "What's the matter?"
"That's—" he began, then stopped.
She blinked at him in confusion. She held the rabbit close to her chest, stroking his cloth fur, pulling him up close to her cheek. "What is it, Mark?"
He was about to say that it was the wrong present, that his own gift had been a lovely silver bracelet with string of tiny heart charms on it, that there must have been a mix-up at the chocolatier's; but at seeing how touched she was by it, how lovingly she held the rabbit up to her and planted a small kiss on its head, he decided not to admit to anything. "Nothing," he said, smiling tenderly. "I was only worried that you wouldn't like it."
"Wouldn't like it? Ha!" She turned the rabbit to examine its sweet little face; how adorable she looked doing so. "I have particularly happy associations with bunnies and you." She turned her blue eyes to him again, her expression emotional. "Thank you, Mark. I never would have pegged you for a present as sentimental as this one, but I'm always very glad for such a surprise."
Still holding the stuffed rabbit close to her, she reached for a piece of the chocolate, and at it, looking positively ecstatic as she closed her eyes and chewed. "Manna from heaven," she murmured. "Will be spoiled for all other chocolate from this day on." She crawled forward, carefully moving the chocolate egg shell aside, to sit in his lap. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pecked a kiss on his lips, then did it again and again. "Thank you," she whispered, before pressing her lips to his and allowing a deeper kiss.
It was a very fine chocolate, indeed.
The end.