one.

The way he looks at her is much like one admires a piece of art: eyes tracking all over, trying to find the best quality to remember forever. But just like art, she is flawless, no "best" quality to be found because everything can simply be seen as the best part, and this is something he enjoys about her. To him, she is perfect, and there aren't enough words in either language he knows to properly explain that.

To her, him looking over her like a piece of meat is something that's demeaning, and when she catches him doing it she glares at him, her eyes like daggers into his skin. "Uh, I do have a face, you know," she chides, turning to get him to stop looking over her front side. "Stop staring, will you?"

"My apologies," he replies, not averting his gaze in the slightest, now using the advantage of her not looking at him to get a long and hard look at every inch of her back side. "It is hard to not stare when you are this breathtakingly beautiful. Not looking would be a crime I would hate to commit."

Although he can't see it, she rolls her eyes, but he definitely can hear the huffy breath she gives. "Well it's a crime I'd forgive you for, if that makes it any better."

"I love you," he thoughtlessly says, the words passing through his lips faster than he can rationalize saying them. She freezes, before turning on one foot to look at him with raised eyebrows, and he shrugs when she gives him an imploring look as to why he'd say such a powerful thing in such an inopportune moment.

two.

If she is flawless while clothed, then when she is as bare as nature made her, she must be akin to a goddess. And while she has no qualms with what has happened in the past with her nude body, she has a fierce protectiveness of what her clothes don't expose, and she intends on keeping some things to herself as much as she can.

So when he accidentally walks in on her as she's about to shower, and he gets the opportunity to take in a frontal view of this otherworldly beauty (a sight he knows will linger in his thoughts for the coming weeks), there is just a sliver of a moment where nothing obstructs his view. But her arms fly to cover what must be covered, and she screams at him to get out, to leave her alone, to stop staring at her.

His face begins to darken, shades of red pooling in his cheeks, as he obliges, turning his head to stop his staring, but the damage is already done and the silhouette of her body has been burned into his mind. "I love you," he says, a slight stutter to his typically formal voice, and no sooner does he say it does he realize that he's spoken out of embarrassment, not out of true affection.

When she yells at him once more to get out, she spits her words like acid and he's quick to listen to her, scolding himself on the inside not for letting the situation happen, but rather for foolishly speaking like he had.

three.

Family rivalries are nothing to laugh at, and if there's one thing he knows about his older brothers, it's that they cannot tolerate it when he can show them up. He remembers all-too-well when one of his brothers tried to insult her in front of him, and he knows that now there is a passion that goes beyond what he had felt back then for her. But he also knows that the passion he does feel does not translate well into words, being described better as a lust that resides in the pit of his stomach, a monster that gnaws at him when he so much as lets her cross his mind.

When he gets the chance to let his brothers meet her, he knows that things have a high chance of ending horribly, and he is mostly correct about that assumption. What goes wrong, though, is not anything that he had predicted—as he felt that it would turn into an ugly mess of his brothers teasing her for her looks or her personality, both of which are things he appreciates more than he feels anyone can comprehend.

It is while she's talking a bit about herself, more specifically, her past that has nothing to do with that wretched show that changed their lives in so many ways, that she says something he hasn't heard before. She talks about insecurities, about flaws she finds in herself that she can't tolerate, and she opens herself up to his brothers in a way that no one ever expected. They look to him with shock, as neither brother knew that the youngest in their family had such an interesting girlfriend, and he can feel his chest swelling with pride about it.

For once, he has something his brothers don't, and his way of celebrating the achievement is to look at her and tell her, "I love you." But there's something to how he says it, something that reveals that he doesn't mean it in a romantic sense, instead going for more of a "you have given me something I've never had before" meaning.

She rolls her eyes and his brothers laugh.

four.

There is no denying that he enjoys getting to spoil her, even though she is not always receptive to his surprises. Most times he treats her to spending a day out, but sometimes there are lavish gifts involved, and there are others where the surprise is that he takes things down from their high standard of living and makes things more personal. Those are the events she dislikes most, because from her standpoint, where is the fun in him making her a beautiful meal when he could take her out to a divine one with less effort and more money?

Still, he likes to try and see her smile when it comes to planning an elaborate date at home without her finding out. There isn't much fun to the planning, but there is fun when he tells her to dress up without giving a reason why, because it means that she has no idea that her dreams of going out are going to be dashed by him trying to give her a nice meal at home instead. So when she comes out of her room looking like a model about to hit the runway and finds that she is not going to be showing off her attractive figure to the world, instead spending the night in their candlelit dining room instead, she's livid.

But she has enough sense about her to know not to throw a tantrum and have him decide not to treat her at all. Keeping that in mind doesn't stop her from still giving him disgusted looks and making snide comments when he tries to make small talk with her, though, and he knows that she is not pleased in the slightest with the circumstances.

"I love you," he tells her, as she's mid-sentence and going on about something negative about the experience, and she completely disregards his words. Which, he realizes, is what he needs her to do because when he is being chewed out for being thoughtful is no time to admit to romantic attachment.

five.

Sometimes when his thoughts get away from him, he finds himself mired in memories that are less than ideal to still be dwelling on. Most of them are of his time spent in the metal cage that housed him for over a year, but there is the occasional instance where he thinks of before that, back to when he wanted nothing more than to give in to the romantic feelings for her that had begun to consume him. He thinks fondly of back before he had wanted so badly to make her pay for what she had done, but thinking of then has its host of problems.

Her pushing him down the side of a volcano after he had finally caved in and verbalized his romantic intentions to her. Singing against her, trying to make her feel like less of a person for actions she realistically had to have taken. Finding out that she had gone against her word to him, after he had tried to impede her chances at winning. The sight of her in a beautiful wedding gown, then being tasked with carrying her across a rope he intentionally threw them off of.

There are a million memories in the same vein, some bringing him a flood of positive feelings, others bringing him down slightly. He knows he shouldn't focus so much on the past, as he had told himself that it was all irrelevant once he had returned honor to his family name, but he also knows that those memories are most of what makes him feel so passionately about this woman.

She looks at him, as he pulls himself out of those thoughts with a shake of his head, and the corners of her mouth tick slightly upward. "What's on your mind?" she asks, her question genuine as she smiles a bit more. "Please tell me it's not me."

"Oh, but it is you," he replies, giving her just as much of a smile as she had been giving him—but when he had spoken, her smile had been quick to fade. "What, do you not like me being honest with you?"

"I do like it, but…" Her voice trails off as she sighs deeply, stretching as she does, her back arching and making her chest more prominent than it normally is on her petite frame. He makes sure to not focus on what she's doing, instead choosing to try and maintain eye contact with her until she's back in her initial position. "You thinking about me is never a good thing. Next thing I know, you're going to try and cop a feel or something."

He is taken aback by the accusation, shaking his head. "I would never attempt such a thing, not without your explicit permission." As he is answering, he watches her reposition herself so that she is seated on his lap, her back resting against him, and she grabs his hand, trying to move it to rest where she wants it. But he resists, letting her move his hand no further than her leg. "Forcibly moving me is not permission. It is you wanting to make a point."

"Why do you care? You get a touch, I get to be right, I think we'd both win there," she says with a bite to her words, but she stops trying to move him. "So let me ask again, what's on your mind?"

The words roll off his tongue like they were a regular occurrence, passing through his lips like a kiss for her ears: "I love you." She gives a content sigh, pressing up against him a bit as she does, and he follows suit, liking the way it feels to have her on him and for him to have told her what he's always wanted to say. He repeats his words, giving them more of the passion that has lingered inside of him for so long, and as he speaks he wraps his arms around her, holding her tightly as she sits there in his lap. "I love you, mi amor," Alejandro says for a third time, resting his chin on her head.

"I love you too," Heather replies, letting everything be as it should.

A/N: Yes, I know Valentine's Day was like two weeks ago, but as a pinch hitter in the fic exchange over at the Total Drama Writers' Forum, I didn't know I'd be writing this until a few days ago. So, Maggie, aka Blanche Et Noir Takaramono, I really hope this was worth the wait! :D