Author's Note: Day number 5 and this chapter caters to the "Person A is asleep and Person B gazes at them lovingly and thinks how much they mean to them" prompt. I have written a few scenes like this is Paper Roses where it's Seto doing the musing, so I wanted to turn that on its head and write from Kisara's perspective. I hope you like it! xxx

Wrestling off the high-heels, she cursed the shoes and sighed with relief as she stood on the cool stone step. Searching blindly in her clutch-purse, she flicked her hair over a shoulder and prayed for her keys to surface from the dark depths of spare change, hair pins and drink receipts. But alcohol had slowed her reflexes and it was all she could do to helplessly move the muddle of bits and bobs around the purse.

Finally locating the set of keys, she unlocked the front floor and rushed in from the cold early morning. Dropping the stilettos by the stairs, Kisara shucked off her jacket and left it on one of the hooks by the kitchen door. Running an eye over the notice board by the telephone, she groaned and cursed to herself. The board was used to post any messages received or things to remember – it was usually covered with dates the security members had booked off to prevent scheduling them to work those days, or to remind Mokuba of the days he was covering for his brother at KaibaCorp.

But the note that gained her attention was the elegant cursive handwriting near the top of the board, almost above her reach.

"Your mother called, ring her tomorrow."

Of course her mother would call the one night she was out of the mansion. That must have been fun for Seto to contend with; her mother meant well, but she wasn't Kaiba's biggest fan. More than two years had done little to soften her mother's opinion of Seto.

Hearing a low buzzing in the living room, Kisara turned her back on the notice board and made for the open door; Mokuba had probably left his cell phone plugged in again; the youth had a habit of misplacing the device every other day.

Quietly padding into the living room, she smiled and found the perpetrator of the buzzing. The black phone fell off the coffee table and onto the carpeted floor, its owner fast asleep on the couch. Pulling a few bobby pins from her hair, she shook the tresses out and let them fall down her back. Tonight had been fun and Mai had shown her the best bars and clubs in Domino; they had laughed and danced the night away into the early hours.

And yet something had felt off; she had missed him. Seto wasn't the biggest fans of Mai's group of friends – of Téa and Serenity and the guys. Apparently they had all known each other well before she had arrived in Domino a couple of years ago. Joey often told her that Money Bags – his crass nickname for Seto – had never really liked any of them, and maintained their passing friendship on Mokuba's account. In her opinion, that just showed how little Joey truly understood Seto; he may have known him for years, but he didn't have a clue really.

Though he tolerated corporate events and had to show his face to such things, Seto preferred to keep himself to the mansion and avoid going out. Some media soul would inevitably find out and appear in the bar or club to ruin the night, so she hadn't asked him to join her on the night out – he didn't like going out and she was perceptive enough not to push the matter; he never forced her to attend the boring business dinners she hated.

Sitting down on the couch beside her sleeping love, Kisara watched as he slumbered on, lost in the simplicity of the moment. It had taken Seto almost a year to tell her he loved her and another four months to bluntly ask her to move in with him. That had been over a year ago now and she had only fleetingly once looked back. Of course there had been the obvious privacy incursions of reporters calling noon and night and one who even crossed the mark and followed her to work one day; a single call to Roland had seen the journalist fired by the next morning.

Living in a house where the security force came and went had been an adjustment shock, but not as much as the morning there had been a break-in threat; some rabid fangirl of Mokuba's had managed to get onto the mansion grounds and the security detail had closed around her in seconds. Mokuba had laughed it off and Seto had briskly swept the matter under the carpet and moved on with the day. She, on the other hand, had come from a very simple upbringing in a country village to the north and the reality of her relationship had hit her that day.

Seto had found her sitting at Domino's train station, ready to head home to her worried mother and gossiping aunts. She had realised just how much she adored him that rainy evening because he hadn't tried to stop her. One of the world's most powerful men had instead sat beside her and handed over her favourite souvenir. The silly stuffed Toon Blue-Eyes White Dragon had been a gift on one of their early dates at KaibaLand; Seto had won it for her on one of those claw crane machines after she had lucked out countless times. He hated Toon World though, especially the caricature it made of his Blue-Eyes ... and yet he allowed her to keep the dumb stuffed monster on a shelf in her side of his walk-in wardrobe.

The rain had pelted down and she had held the Toon Blue-Eyes and begun to cry. She had let it all spill out then; of how sorry she was that she had left, how scared she felt and the sinking feeling that she couldn't cope in the limelight. The train had pulled into the station then and he still hadn't tried to stop her. Instead Seto had nodded his head and apologised for loving her. He had kissed her forehead then and told her he completely understood if she had to leave.

The shinkansen darted away and she stayed where she was, stuffed duel monster in-hand and a heart weighed down with a mix of fear and guilt. Two hours they had stayed sitting on the platform, watching strangers come and go in silence. Three times she had contemplated boarding one of the trains, but her heart wouldn't let her. She was scared and confused and panicking, but she loved him too much to leave him.

So Kisara had ripped her train ticket in two, thrown it to the wind and never looked back. Crash-courses in self-defence had made little of her intruder fears, social media coaching with Mokuba and a public-speaking tutelage from Roland kept the insipid reporters entertained and everything else had clicked into place over time.

But she wouldn't change it for the world. She wouldn't change him.

Smiling as he stirred, Kisara sat closer and yawned as his arm found its way around her and he kissed her forehead before falling back into the land of nod. Feeling herself slipping into dreams too, Kisara smiled happily and thought herself the luckiest girl in the world.

A/n- Thanks for reading everyone and I hope you enjoyed it! xxx