He is attentive.
He sees how she prefers simple clothing, such as t-shirts, jeans, sweatpants, hoodies, and flip flops over more expensive, stylish clothing. While the clothes she wears may not be the latest fashion trends, they are comfortable; she chooses comfort over style. While he loves this about her, he cannot help but feel compelled to lavish her with the most beautiful dresses, blouses, pants, shoes, and accessories that money can buy. Why? It's simple; she is his everything. She is his Queen, and he has an overwhelming desire to see her adorned as such. She would get used to it, he knows. She might even come to prefer the nicer clothing over the simple wardrobe she currently has, but deep down, he knows that her desire for graphic t-shirts and lounge pants will never leave her, and he doesn't want it to, because it's what makes her her.
He is attentive.
As he peruses through her bathroom, he can see that her shampoos and conditioners are similar to her clothing; of a cheap variety. Maybe he's over-thinking things, but the soaps and scents that gently cleanse and massage her hair and scalp shouldn't cost $4.50 at the local supermarket. Her luxurious dark waves should be gently treated with the finest soaps and essential oils there are. Though the scent of her current shampoo is pleasing to him, he knows he can find much better products that smell just as good; lavender shampoo to encourage her hair growth, or rose water to help repair any damage she may have caused to it from straightening it with an iron. He doesn't understand why she does that to her hair sometimes. While her hair in any form is lovely, her waves are gorgeous and he loves how they flow down her back like a waterfall. Yes, new shampoo must be added to the list.
He is attentive.
He notices, with some surprise, that her jewelry box is severely lacking the very things that give it its name: jewelry. He sees two necklaces hung on hooks; each necklace holding one half of a heart. One half says 'mother,' the other half says 'daughter'. These two necklaces were clearly meant for two people to wear simultaneously, but he can see from the dust collected on the top of the box, that they haven't been touched in quite some time; not since the accident that claimed her mother's life five years earlier. He closes the box and turns to a tiny tray, where a simple ring sits, waiting to be slipped on her delicate finger. It clearly isn't a real diamond, and the band itself is merely a cheap piece of plastic that her finger has worn the paint off of. He notices she likes to wear it all the time, but from where it came, he does not know. Surely some man couldn't have given such a tacky gift to her; don't they know she deserves only the best? He would shower her in as many forms of jewels as she wanted. A sapphire necklace to compliment her eyes; an emerald bracelet, ruby earrings, and, his personal favorite, the beautiful white gold, double halo diamond ring he has back at his home, for when the time is right.
He is attentive.
She is an excellent reader. Her bookshelf is full of a variety of books, both fiction and nonfiction. Her fictional tastes excite him, for a great deal are romantic novels of a darker kind. They are the sort of stories where the beautiful heroine falls for the dark, brooding outcast instead of the blonde-haired, blue-eyed aristocrat. This gives him hope that she would see his love and passion for her and return the affection, and kick that spoiled little punk she sees occasionally to the curb. He can only hope. As far as her nonfiction options, she clearly enjoys learning, and that makes him proud. She has books on nature and gardening, cooking, foreign languages, and travel. He smiles, seeing the travel books, knowing that all she has to do is ask, and he would whisk her anywhere she wanted to go. He would show her the world; all of the places she wants to see, and all of the places he wants to show her. He could imagine her dancing with him in a piazza somewhere in Italy, pressed up against his side on a gondola, riding in a horse-drawn carriage across a frozen lake in Switzerland, or lying in his arms on their own private, secluded beach in Kauai, Hawaii. Seeing the world with her would be like seeing it for the first time for him; she would make it feel new, chasing away the darkness that cloud his memories of the world.
He is attentive.
He observes on a daily basis, and even now as he looks through her kitchen cupboards, that the type of food she buys herself either stems from how much money is in her wallet at the time of her weekly grocery trip, or that her tastes have not been expanded much. He feels like it is the first option, for if given the chance, he would cook the finest meals for her, full of so much flavor and richness, that, if for nothing else, she'd have no choice but to love him. Only the freshest produce would do for her, as well as the leanest meats, healthiest snacks, and sweetest treats to indulge in on occasion. When he watches her eat toast for breakfast, his heart hurts, for he wants nothing more than to make her a full breakfast with eggs, bacon, fruit, pastries, and coffee. She doesn't like to fuss over herself the way he wants to fuss over her. Can she not see how special she is?
One day she will. She will see him. She will learn how much he loves her, needs her, and adores her; how he wants to care for her the way she cares for everyone else, but herself. He can see her the way she can't; the way most people don't. He sees the desire to be loved that she hides from everyone; she can't hide it from him. Yes, he sees; he listens, he learns, and one day soon, he'll show her.
Because he is attentive.