- Posting some drabbles from Tumblr - to keep them in one place...

He tiptoed into the kitchen, attempting to stay quiet. She was at the stove scrambling eggs when he wrapped his arms around her whispering a "good morning" behind her ear. He noticed her cheek tighten from her smile. He squeezed around her ribs and leaned closer to brush his lips against the soft skin at her cheekbone. She set her spatula down and turned around slowly, methodically looping her hands around his shoulders to scratch the skin at the hairline of his neck. He watched her wet her lips before they were on his own.

"Good morning," she hummed on his lips before turning back to their breakfast.

She felt his fingers play with the sash of her robe by her spine; hooking underneath it. He loosened it just slightly then traced lines over the cotton material, slowly working down to the small of her back. His palms brushed over the rise of her hips before gliding their way back up to her waist. He rested his chin on her shoulder.

"Smells delicious."

"Well, good. It's – it's ready," she stammered and turned off the stove, pushing at his wrist to step out of his hold. He pulled at her arm, stopping her beside him.

"Breakfast smells good too…"

She rolled her eyes but her smile and subtle eye-raise that followed heartened him. "Toast?"

"That would be lovely," he sat down.

She felt him watching her every move as she prepared their plates. She set them down and pressed a lingering kiss in his hair before she joined him.

"No patients today then?" he questioned knowingly.

"I didnt schedule anyone," she sipped her tea.

"Brilliant," he reached for hand, thumbing at her engagement ring. "I was hoping we could spend Valentine's day together."

"So was I. Happy Valentine's day, Lucien."

His eyes darkened when she met his eyes and her stomach flipped. She stared down at his fingers, playing with her ring. She couldn't wait to find out the extent of their talents. Thinking of how he touched her moments ago, even through her robe, she sighed.

"Lucien?" she tried to steady her voice.

He squeezed her hand reassuringly. "Jean, you know it doesn't matter what we do," he brought her hand to his lips to kiss her knuckles.

"In six weeks it wont matter," she corrected pointedly.

He chuckled. She gulped. His lips had moved from her knuckles to the inside of her wrist.

"You're testing my patience, Lucien."

"I always have, haven't I?"

"Lucien…" she warned.

"Jean," he rumbled his retort. "This method is just," he licked he wrist, "way…more," his hot breath blew over the dampened skin, "fun," he planted a long kiss at her pulse point, looking up at her transfixed expression before releasing his lips with a loud popping sound.

"Just…" she spat out, flustered. "Just eat your breakfast."

"Whatever you wish, Valentine. Really," he forked his eggs into his mouth.

They ate in silence for a moment until Jean demanded, "How can you be so patient?"

He snorted. "Oh, my darling, I assure you it isn't easy for me either. It needs to be right. Nothing is more important to me than that, Jean."

She nodded. "Soon." She paused. "It's odd to think that soon this will be a distant problem. We will be used to… married life," she lowered her voice to almost a whisper.

"I am still pinching myself over it all. You're going to be my wife."

"And you'll be my husband. For now, valentine will do."

He stood, clearing their plates to the counter. "Yes, it sure will. I love you." He extended his hand and she rose from her seat. "Now, what would you like to do today?"