Cosette sat at the desk in her room, writing with her father's old quill. The room was bathed in the spring sunlight, shedding enough light for the young woman to see what she wrote. Cosette was bent low, concentrating hard on the words she recorded. Her mind solely on her work, she didn't hear the sound of the door opening and closing.
Marius stood by the door after entering, watching Cosette write at the old oak desk. His face and eyes softened in love for his beautiful wife as he gazed in adoration at her form. After a few moments, Cosette laid the quill aside and folded up the parchment she had been writing on. She opened a drawer and laid it in there, locking it after closing. Marius cleared his throat. Cosette jumped out of her chair and spun around, startled at the abrupt noise. Her entire body was tense, her eyes fierce.
Then she saw who it was. Cosette relaxed completely and walked over to Marius with a smile on her face. "Marius, don't sneak up on me like that!" she chided lightly as they embraced.
"Oh, but it's so much fun!" Marius replied as they parted. He still kept his hands on her, holding her close but their bodies not touching. They both smiled all the wider as they looked at the other's face.
"You, sir, are supposed to be a gentleman, and, as I recall, a gentleman does not sneak up upon a lady like a thief," Cosette continued.
"Well, then call me a robber, Cosette, for I have stolen your heart as you have stolen mine," he answered. They pulled closer together and shared a passionate kiss. Arm in arm, they exited the room and went downstairs to the sitting room. They sat on a couch and snuggled as closely as possible. The fire that had been started in the morning was still burning high, thanks to Cosette. Above the mantle hung a portrait of her father, Jean Valjean. It was a close-up of only from his shoulders up. His face was serious and proud, but his eyes smiled in themselves. One could even imagine the painter had captured the ever-constant twinkle within.
Leaning against her husband, Cosette sighed as her eyes once more ran over the painting. "I miss him so," she said softly.
Marius nodded. "I know. Me too. He was more of a father to me than my actual father was. Such a good man, Jean Valjean was."
Unshed tears formed in Cosette's eyes. "Yes, he was the only father I ever knew, and he's the only father I ever wanted or want." She looked up into Marius' eyes. "In some way, I see a bit of him in you. You have that twinkle in your eye when you see me, just the way he did, even when things go wrong."
Marius stared deeply into Cosette's eyes. "You made us both so very happy, Cosette. So very happy."
The lovers pulled closer together and shared kiss after blissful kiss on the couch. It took them both back to the days of courtship, when they'd sit out in the square all night, every night, talking, kissing. They pulled apart briefly as Marius rolled over on top of Cosette, stretching out over her body. Again and again they kissed as they both totally gave themselves to the one they loved.