The rich, full-bodied scent of fresh brewed coffee stirred him as it wafted into the room, its heady vapor as alluring as a siren's song to the newly woken. He knew there would be fresh-squeezed orange juice in the fridge and muffins too, sweet and wholesome, home-made for his breakfast.
Nephrite, though, was disappointed. Smelling coffee instead of the tang of citrus next to him in bed meant that she'd already left for work and he'd missed seeing her off with a kiss. He still reached for her, though, hoping. When he found her space both empty and the sheets cool, he growled at himself for sleeping in and made a mental note to set the alarm clock for earlier the next morning.
Groaning, he kicked aside the covers and plodded into the bathroom to have a shower. While the steaming water beat down over him, he considered how lucky he was. He ought to be grateful. He was living in Kino Makoto's apartment, sharing her home, her bed and her life. She fussed over him, cooked for him, and generally pampered him silly. She had, practically since the first stormy night they'd met again.
She said she loved him.
God knew he loved her.
He'd still half expected her to murder him on the spot, though. She DID have a hair-trigger temper and she'd surely had every right. It would have been no more than justified really, seeing as he had done that to her an age ago while lost in thrall to an otherworldly demon.
In spite of the hot water pounding onto his shoulders, he shuddered, feeling an icy chill shiver up his spine, and he scrubbed fiercely with the washcloth as if he could scour away the miserable image, though he suspected it was burned into his brain for all time. It was one of a number of too-vivid memories that he could have done without after his resurrection. He suspected, though she never said so, that it was seared into hers as well. Yet for that and the rest of his crimes, and there had been many, though none of the magnitude of THAT one, she had still managed somehow to forgive him.
Well, first she'd fainted.
But after she'd come around from the first shock of seeing him alive again, she'd drawn him closer, wrapping her arms around his neck, and gazed on him with haunting eyes. She'd cried then, nearly ripping his heart out as her teardrops fell on his cheeks, mingling with the rain which poured down on them. Then he'd realized that she was smiling through her tears, thanking Selenity for bringing him back to her. And she was holding him as if she'd never let him go.
She hadn't yet, a fact that never ceased to amaze him.
Yes, he thought as he twisted the tap, shutting off the flow before the not unlimited supply of hot water could run out, he was quite possibly the luckiest damned man on the planet. But it still aggravated him that she'd slipped out that morning before he woke. He had a millennia's worth of good-morning kisses to catch up on. Relishing the thought he vowed that he would definitely reset the alarm clock.
Standing before the bathroom mirror with only a towel wrapped around his waist, Nephrite reached for his shaving cream. To find it he had to fumble through a number of different bottles and tubes cluttering the counters. His and hers. It was nice seeing her beauty things mixed in amongst his own toiletries. Cozy and couple-like. It gave him hope that she'd accept a certain finely chased gold ring he'd been trying to get up the nerve to give her.
His lips quirked up in a bemused grin as he studied the bottles while absently lathering his chin. He'd never realized before how many of the darned things she had. She certainly didn't need any cosmetic help in his opinion. Her peaches and cream skin was soft as silk and she was so naturally pretty, beautiful actually, she regularly took his breath away. Whatever, then, did she use them all for?
Silently he took stock of them and he chuckled as he perused the labels. They spoke volumes about her, looking more like the list for a green grocer than a beauty counter.
In clear deference to his presence in her, no…their home, the soap and shampoo bore no special scent. But there was a bottle of coconut conditioner and a can of green-apple styling mousse mingling with jars of melon scented bath oil beads and apricot-almond facial scrub. Raspberry-peach lotion shared space with mango-kiwi shower gel. The lemon-mint body spray explained the fresh citrus scent that he now associated with her. He also knew she used a particularly tantalizing cherry-berry lip gloss, because he'd become addicted to that special ambrosial flavor of her kisses.
Yep, his lover was a cook, alright. And you could take the cook out of the kitchen, but evidently you just couldn't take the kitchen out of the cook. It was no wonder she both smelled and tasted so damned good all the time.
Picking up his razor, he then noticed the note penned in Makoto's hand on a piece of pale mint green stationary and taped to the mirror over the sink.
Good morning, sleepyhead, she'd written. Don't forget to make the bed before you leave for work. Your breakfast is keeping warm in the oven. Just wanted to let you know that I've got to work a double shift today at the restaurant today, so you're on your own for supper. But call me later and let me know what you want. I'll bring home something sweet for us for dessert. Love, Mako
An anticipatory smile curved across Nephrite's face and he closed his eyes, lost for a moment in a delicious fantasy sparked by the fruity assortment of beauty products. For herself she could bring home whatever treat most suited her fancy. For him, however, she wouldn't have to bring home anything but her luscious self. He'd feast on fruit salad a la sweet Makoto.
