Author's Note: Thanks SOOO much for the generous reviews, friendsies. I love you all! Seriously, they're all so motivating. I'm also really sorry about not updating for so long! Please forgive me. I planned to post on Valentines' Day, but it just wasn't that good. I've actually had this chapter sitting around, but I've been busy, and I really wanted to give you all a really good piece. Also, so sorry about some of the chunkiness in the last chapters.

(EDIT: Hopefully the kinks are all gone by now! I've also added some new extra quirks and details. I hope you will go back over them!)

Anyway, thank you guys so much for reading, and please do feel free to let me know what you think. Enjoy!

(Revamped, 6/11/08)

Five

Even the touch of her eyes...seems like physical contact that could be made by those lovely hands of hers; I cannot wait to find out how I would feel when her fingers really flutter across my skin…

I need to stop thinking about—

Well, I find it amusing, how she fascinates me so easily with the most subtle, most passive, and most thoughtless of actions.

Such as what she's doing now: just her smile gives me that content, warm, and delirious feeling. Most of my fellow gods achieve that by drinking some sort of ambrosia.

And that steady drumming of fire, blazing from my heart...straight down.

I'm so glad she is to be my wife. Even if I will live well past her age…

I need to stop thinking about that, too.

She's actually still smiling dazedly at me, and although that tilt of her head would be regarded as foolish-looking on most people, she looks as adorable as ever…

"I'd give anything to see what you're thinking in that pretty little head of yours, love."

"Oh! I'm just…thinking that…you are…the most wonderful and intriguing man I've ever come across…"

I must say, it's probably the only time I've ever felt so…happy with just a compliment… (Her gaze is directed just a little bit under my cheekbones)

She really doesn't know what she's doing to me, does she?

"Mmm…I could say the same to you, sweet…You are undoubtedly the most wonderful and intriguing woman I've ever come across…"

I love how…irresistible she looks when she blushes. Her eyes light up with a small dazzle, like the first star that rises in the sky, and the ridiculous childlike length of her glossy lashes flutter with her blinking; her lips in a shy tease, and her cheeks pink, as if rose petals were swept across her fine face…

This time, she giggles, and her face glows charmingly…

"Thank you, Lysander…I truly do think you are a most amazing man…"

"Really, now."

"Yes, really!"

"Then trust me, sweet, when I say that you don't know half of how amazing I really am…"

I throw in a naughty wink for good measure.

I blush and laugh in mirth at the scandalous mischief in his voice; I am truly very fortunate to be blessed by the gods with such a remarkable husband.

I can tell that I will definitely grow to be very fond of him. My senses burn all over with flames of rebellious thrill, exploration, and…something I just can't seem to recog—

The heat spreads straight from my cheeks to my toes.

My hands are in a loop around his neck, and I gently lock my fingers… they brush against the soft feathers of his hair.

I feel…light-headed, floating in a cloud of the sweet spice of his scent, and the passionate invitation of his warmth…

"Mmm…"

He pulls me even closer to him, until my entire body molds just the right way, just for him…there, he rests his head at my neck.

My whole body tingles, and an erratic shiver speeds down my spine—I stand on the bath tiles with my toes, tighten my arms around the span of his shoulders, and try to fit as much of myself as I can into his hold…

I almost giggle when he…delicately rubs his face against my shoulder and neck...but the gesture is so intimate, so caring, and so loving, that I can't help but let out a little sigh of content.

He smells divine; lovely and freshly sweet and just a little bit of something like cinnamon…

And he feels…wonderful, too…I can feel his—

I-it's amazing how such a simple embrace does so much to me. I really don't know why or how he has such…influence over me, but I will most definitely dwell on this later.

I almost gasp when he gives me a very soft…kiss, with his lips at my neck—I would have twitched reflexively, if it weren't so gentle and so tender with feeling.

His fine hair tickles the shell of my ear.

My whole body melts into his…I relax completely in his arms, and he tightens both his hands around my waist…

I can't help but murmur content and…d-delight into his ear, and he chuckles—I can feel him chuckle—as he whispers against my ear…

"Come on, love. Let's change and get out of the bath…my toes probably look like wrinkled grapes now…"

I laugh, despite the twinge of…disappointment.

Like how the waves of high hopes crash soundly against the rocks, splintering into clouds of white foam…

I can't believe the sheer amount of romantic poetry spouting off in my head. Evidently, I have a knack of losing my sanity and wits around him…

He blows into my ear—I squeal and laugh and twitch instinctively—and, again, he whispers right at my ear (I can feel his nose touching the outer curve)…

Oh, but I don't mind losing my sanity and my wits, if this is what I can feel like everyday…

"I have something else planned…"

I quiver hotly, straight down to my toes—a fresh burst of rekindled fire—and I can barely manage to nod. He gives my body a squeeze, lifting his chin off my neck...and I realize that he has been holding me up by my waist this whole time, with my toes floating in the water and no tiles under them.

I glance quickly down at myself, making sure that I am still somewhat covered (actually, I am now pressed against his own body; I can feel the wet clothes clinging on his...s-s-sculpted chest), and I really hope my face is not as red as I think it is (my whole body is pink all over)…

Oddly enough, it's not only embarrassment I feel.

I plant a sound kiss on her lips (I don't think I will ever be able to resist her...I don't think I ever should!), and lower her onto the floor of the bath. I'm trying my best to not think about how nude she is, how stunning she looks, and how lovely she feels under my fingers.

Better yet, I wonder how she feels under my whole body...

"Now, love, I'm going to let you get dressed, so I can show you around my house."

She nods and smiles at me—how beautifully divine she looks now, with her excited flush and dancing eyes and joyous smile and…

"S-s-shall I meet you downstairs?"

"Wonderful."

I kiss her nose with a comical sound, and blow at the golden bronze hair across her forehead.

I think that I will always love making her laugh like this.

I try my best to peel my hands off her, as quickly as possible, so I can evacuate the room, as quickly as possible. I really hope she doesn't notice the state I'm in now…I don't want her to think that I'm some lecherous old coot th—

She's patting my arm, and…

"You need to change, too; I don't want you walking around in wet clothes…you'll catch some illness that way."

We will definitely be a very happy family.

I kiss her forehead this time:

"Thank you, sweet. I will get out of my robes, and into dry ones. I shall meet you downstairs whenever you're ready."

I hope she's always ready for me.

(Oh, please. I just couldn't resist that licentious remark!)

I usually never take much care in my appearance; I used to think, whatever for? I am not going anywhere special where I would need to look presentable. And I am not meeting anyone special.

Well, here I am, letting the maids (I really should familiarize myself with them) do whatever they are doing to me so I can look presentable. Or, preferably, more than presentable.

It's actually rather funny to see my own long hair fly up in the air as they style my head. This is definitely something I could familiarize myself with.

I hope I look nice for Lysander! I must have looked my worst in the bath, with my face bare, my hair piled casually on top of my head, and my dress, well, gone.

"Here, Lady Psyche."

We are all in my new dressing room (I like it better than the one I had at home). I stand, pushing back the plush chair the maids have seated me in. There's an enormous mirror next to me, and I quickly gather my skirts to see my reflection.

I like my dress.

The color is a lovely, pale lilac, and the material is wonderfully soft. It's like nothing I've seen or touched before! The gown stops at my toes and has a slight flare to it. I like the elegance.

I peer closer at my face; truthfully, I'm not very interested in cosmetics, and I usually don't like wearing it. I think it feels very uncomfortable, as if a multitude of substances were plastered heavily to my face. But I don't think the maids plastered a multitude of substances on my face.

I think they darkened my lashes, or something. Maybe more.

Yes, I know, countless marvel at my "beauty." Men give me titles ("Oh, beautiful, most fairest one..."), and every woman loves admiration and compliments. But not if one is admired like some divinely beautiful object a skilled craftsman has made.

I used to wonder: why was I cursed with the beauty that every man loves, the beauty every one adores and envies, the beauty that has set me apart, th—

Either way, it's really no time to be thinking of such things.

Today, my hair was curled (at my mother's orders); it usually trails down in waves to my hips, but my hair stops at my stomach today.

I hope Lysander finds me attractive! I have never met anyone who has treated me the same way he has. No one has ever touched me the same way he has.

Oh! I can't believe I'm blushing again. I suppose I'd best not keep him waiting.

"Thank you all. I'll be with my lord by myself from here."

I can tell the maids are rearranging my hair one last time; one of them pats my shoulder briefly (more like, a breeze of warm air brushes my shoulder) and says:

"It is no surprise that you were chosen, my lady. I wish you enjoy your time with Master Lysander."

I accept her compliment with a wry smile and exit the room.

I hope I don't look as nervous as I feel.

How is she so beautiful?

I don't know what the maids did with her, but her eyes—so breathtakingly…beautiful.

I can't believe that a woman like her exists on this very earth! I am so grateful that she is here, in my life.

I smile brightly. I can practically feel the happiness bloom in my face.

"Hello, dear."

"H-hello, my lord."

She looks so shy, with her fair skin awash with that lovely berry shade across her cheeks…

I stride quickly towards her (she just descended from the steps) and gather my lady in my arms. She feels, smells, and is so wonderful.

Her legs lock with mine (I think I'm about a head taller than she is…Psyche is actually quite a tall woman), and I'm really trying my best to refrain myself and wait. The problem is...I can't.

I have to. I should. I don't want to force myself on her in a hurry.

Her arms slide to my shoulder and neck; I tilt my head away from the cloud of gilded curls and to the entrance of her ear…wow, that sounded like s—

I shake away the arousing, graphic whispers in my head, and tell her the truth ringing in my mind.

"You are so beautiful."

She stiffens, and my heart manages to shudder and stop a little.

Before my mind starts wandering around at a frenzied pace (why, why, why has my head stopped thinking reasonably?), she loosens her hold and looks up at me.

Well, she would see the point of my nose. But at this angle, I can see more of her there. As in, down the clinging bodice of her dress. Lovely dress, by the way. I like the color, and the cut. I do like the cut very much.

Her eyes look violet now; shimmering violet that manages to match her dress a little. She raises her head and whispers:

"And you, my lord, are a beautiful person."

At this point, my heart is bursting with love, flowers, and sweet sentiments. I really want to reward her for this, too. Being called beautiful never felt so…different. Well, she really can't see me, but I shall dwell on this later…there are more…urgent matters to attend to, now…

Really, she is begging to be kissed. And ravaged in the most endearing way.

But ravaging is for later, of course.

When we have a comfortable bed, and much, much, much more time.

I miss him already.

My lord had left a moment ago…and here I am, sitting in the loveseat, left alone to my wandering thoughts. I gaze out at the marvelous scenery around me, and it's entirely believable that Lysander is some divine form.

It won't matter if he isn't, though. It won't matter if I can never see his form, his face, or his eyes.

I want to spend my entire life with him. Laughing with him, talking with him, and loving him. I don't care if I can't see him.

Appearances are nothing. Insignificant.

Well, he showed me the entire palace, and I was so pleasantly surprised; we are surrounded by a huge garden! I must admit, I was very shocked when he walked around with me—the vast garden was lively, verdant, and filled with so many gentle creatures.

It was the first time I ever touched an animal! An adorable deer, no less. I look forward to further exploring the garden with him.

There were large fruit trees (with lovely shade) and plenty of flowers. I realized then that I had actually walked across a stone path, when I was trudging up to the palace! The stones were skillfully carved with stories and pictures. I wanted to admire each one, but maybe we will have more time later.

The whole cloud was a disguise for the garden, he said. He wanted to surprise me.

"Besides, clouds bother me. I would never consent to live on top of a large cloud!"

The palace shines bright; I see that the pillars were gold, the graceful arches were ivory, and the walls were embossed with silver. Right next to the large dwelling was a running stream, complete with a large fountain! It was beautiful, with little marble cherubs playing with streaming marble ribbons and friendly marble doves. The water was as clear as glass, and as bright as the sun.

"Your eyes shine as much as the water, love. You won't believe how spellbound I am…"

I will never forget the way he said those sweet words, and how he touched my cheek…with love and every pleasantry combined. I could feel the emotions that poured from his lips, fanning all over my face…

Oh, and here I am, blushing as red as an apple. I hope he doesn't think I look ridiculous when I flush. I certainly think I look ridiculous when I'm flushed. There's this odd shade of red that spreads from my cheeks to my hairline.

Our time in the garden had ended all too soon. I wanted to plead for him to stay, but I restrained myself. I didn't want to interfere with his business. He needed to go back to his work, he said. Hunting exotic animals for the gods. I suppose that explains the elaborate set of bow and arrows.

"Tonight, love—please wait for me. I will be here as fast as I possibly can, but it will probably have to be midnight. I may be late, but please wait for me. I wish I could be back sooner, and share an evening meal with you, but I—"

"Don't worry, my lord…I will wait for your return."

I think I would do anything for you, love.