Day Two - A Private Moment

Morning light filtered through the thin curtains of the small hotel room, a yellow haze settling over the expanse of the floor. Despite the warmth being provided by the light, the cool of the air conditioning unit sent a shiver through the red-haired woman. She curled into herself, pulling the blanket even more tightly around her in an attempt to form a shield against the unwanted breeze. She unconsciously huddled closer to the sleeping form next to her, reveling in the feeling of closeness his warm body brought.

Claire's eyelids fluttered open; she winced slightly as she felt the sunlight hit her eyes. Her vision adjusted, no longer having to squint to prevent the assault of brightness that came with the morning sun. It was a peaceful morning, something which Claire hadn't truly experienced in God knows how long. Relaxation hadn't come easy in the months following the incident; so she wasn't about to ruin such a perfect moment just because she was awake. She was going to savor this. Memorize it. Commit it to memory.

She sighed, closing her eyes once again, nestling closer to Owen, who was still very much the picture of a man in hibernation. A smile tugged at her lips as she felt a strong arm snake around her waist at her movement, pulling her close. Memories of the previous night flooded her mind as his delightfully calloused hands moved to rest on her hip. A fond smile played at the corner of her lips, curving her mouth upward as she laid her head against his bare chest.

After a moment, she couldn't help herself; opening her eyes again, she took in the sight before her. Watching someone while they slept hadn't really appealed to her before; she always found it unnerving when her past boyfriends would admit to doing it. This time, however, she found herself curious. Normally, Owen would be up before her, or the situation would arise where Claire would to have to be somewhere at ungodly hours of the morning.

With a brief glance to the clock on the bedside table, she realized that, for once, she actually had a decent amount of time before she actually had to get ready.

Now was her chance.

Owen looked so peaceful, the warm worry lines on his face relaxed as he dreamed, his head resting comfortably on the white pillow. Her eyes roamed over the expanse of his exposed chest, heat rising to her cheeks as she cherished in the feeling of his toned arms wrapped around her; she mentally praised herself for landing such an attractive partner, and one who was so talented in more ways than one. She could hardly believe she had gone so long without such a caring and devoted man as Owen. Really, they should have been doing this ages ago.

Her gaze shifted to his face, her mind having tread into dangerously suggestive territory. A laugh almost escaped her as she took in his expression, amusement gleaming in her eyes at the way his mouth was slightly agape. A gentle snore came from his nose. She paused for a moment, her brows knitting together slightly, not remembering Owen to ever be someone that snored.

In a split-second, Owen's eyes had flashed open. He tightened his hold on her waist, swiftly and efficiently pinning the redhead against the bed. She shrieked in surprise, gripping him tightly as he flipped their position. "Owen!" Her heart was racing, only slowing as she realized what had happened; she scowled at the man above her as he let out a hearty laugh.

His laugh faded, his grin morphing into a sly smirk. "You were watching me sleep."

She felt like a kid who'd just been caught sneaking into the cookie jar. In her guilty state, she desperately grabbed at the thin blanket, scrambling to cover herself. Owen had seen her naked a countless number of times, but now all she wanted to do what to crawl under the sheets and hide forever.

Her first instinct was to deny everything, to imply that Owen was only full of himself, that it was wishful thinking, etc. Only, she found she couldn't find the words; so, she settled for a silent, cold glare.

His eyes lit up, a devious smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You were!"

"Don't flatter yourself," She said with exasperation, though she was having trouble stifling a laugh, feeling herself shift under his darkened gaze. "You snore, you know that?"

He chuckled, leaning down to plant a kiss on her forehead. "So do you."

Her jaw dropped in offense. "I do not!"

He leaned down again, this time kissing her cheek, his mouth migrating to her jaw, then to the corner of her lips at a tantalizingly slow pace. "And you like to watch me sleep."

"Oh my God, Owen—"

"You know, I'm more than just a piece of meat for you to ogle at. My eyes are up here. I'm a person and I do not appreciate…"

She fought back an eye roll at his theatrical display, instead electing to fix him with a challenging glare, a smile pulling a threatening tug at the corner of her lips as he kept talking. In spite of the embarrassment she felt being caught in the act, Owen always had a way of making her smile. Along with the peaceful moments, she treasured the other ones they shared, the ones where they'd show so much affection for each other that it was sickening. Outside their home, their interactions were more controlled, their public displays of affection less apparent (though some would argue that they were still prone to the occasional PDA).

Her hands rested on the sides of his face as she pulled him down in a sound kiss, effectively shutting him up. "Oh, please," she scoffed, pulling away. "I'll do what I want with you."

Owen gave her a soft smile, his eyes gazing down into hers. He gently brushed her red hair away from her face. "You," his thumb gently grazed her bottom lip, his focus entranced by the movement. "You are so beautiful," he whispered. He leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. "You are the most amazing person I have ever known," he murmured as he traced his finger down the sharp angle of her cheekbone. "I've wanted to ask you something. I know you might not want to, but I think this is the best time to ask."

"Ask me what?" She whispered. Is this what she thought it was? He was so serious, it almost scared her. Was he about to pop the question? Was she ready for this? And here? It was so unexpected. Of course, she would say yes, but—

"Would you…" He paused, laughed, and shook his head, before returning his searching gaze to hers, a soft, loving smile playing at his lips. Her heart filled with anticipation from the love that was showing through the green depths of his eyes.

"Would you take care of this?" He punctuated the request by stabbing her bare thigh with his morning wood.

Oh, how typical.

In hindsight, she should have seen that coming. "God dammit, Owen!" This time, Claire actually did roll her eyes, sighing in exasperation at his crude request; with a sudden bout of strength, she pushed him off of her, fighting back the fit of giggles bubbling within her. She reached behind her, her hand snatching up and throwing a well-aimed pillow at his head.

"What? You don't have to blow me! A handy will do the job just fine!" He laughed, dodging her attack.

"Fuck you!"

"That'll work too!" Owen continued to laugh as she tried to playfully smother him.

She couldn't help but join in his hilarity as he pretended to struggle. "You are the worst!"

Their uncontrollable laughter eventually died down, both of them falling back onto the bed, struggling to catch their breath. Owen smiled again before reaching an arm around Claire and squeezing her close, his lips finding hers in another chaste kiss.

Once again, he pulled away, looking down at her, his eyes filled with genuine affection. "You are wonderful, you know that?" He asked, still trying to catch his breath from their impromptu pillow fight.

Her lips curved upward into a shy smile, her eyes gleaming. "You're not so bad yourself," she admitted, pulling him back in for another kiss, this one being significantly less innocent. She leaned into him, deepening the kiss as a soft moan escaped her, the feeling of his wandering hands roaming her body being just so damn good.

Oh, what the hell! She had plenty of time!

A surprised, but very pleased, grunt escaped Owen as Claire reached a conceding hand under the covers.

She may or may not have been late to work that morning, no thanks to a certain animal behaviorist.