"I'm going to be hearing that one a lot, aren't I?" Imelda was watching him in the tarnished mirror of her vanity as Hector closed their bedroom door behind him. She'd finally finished tucking Coco in after yet another song and an encore from Mamá a few minutes ago - though she'd had to wait until another three or four rounds of Recuérdame finished up first.
"Mi amado, you were eavesdropping?!" Hector feigned shock as he worked on getting out of his half-buttoned shirt. His hair was still damp from the pitcher of water he'd dumped over himself in the courtyard outside, trying to cool off. "I can't believe you would do such a thing!"
"I had to make sure you hadn't dropped dead in there, you were taking so long." She flashed him an unrepentant little smirk as she tugged the last ribbon out of her hair and shook it free to fall in dark waves down her back.
Hector had to remind himself to breathe at the sight of her - and haloed in the last fading rays of dusk, no less. Imelda was entirely too aware of the effect she had on him, and she used it mercilessly when she chose to.
"I had been hoping to actually spend some time with my husband before he goes traipsing off for who knows how long." Imelda informed him, fingers loosening the collar of her dress as she stood. Glancing at Hector over her shoulder, she let it fall to the floor in a heap. Hector fumbled a button.
He could see Imelda's smirk widen as she closed their chipped blue shutters, skin aglow in the half-light. He'd never seen anyone fill out a camisa better than his wife, and given that was all she had on at the moment...
"Dios mio, Imelda…." Hector wriggled awkwardly free of the shirt cuff he'd been entirely too distracted to undo properly, before struggling to escape even more uncooperative suspenders - all without taking his eyes off of her. "I didn't think it was possible, but you just keep getting more beautiful..."
"Settle down majadero, you're going to trip." Imelda teased, coming back to help him. She gently smoothed a dripping hank his unruly hair out of the way, and Hector sighed contentedly, leaning into her touch.
Imelda couldn't help herself, she had to kiss him for that. Hector enthusiastically reciprocated, and the next thing she knew she was in his lap disentangling him from his trousers - while he worked her nightgown up and over her head. And then they were at it like teenagers under a curfew, all hands and lips and tangled limbs, tumbling back onto the bed together. Hector might be ridiculous half the time, but he certainly knew how to kiss her until she forgot her own name, Imelda had to admit.
She tangled her hands in his hair, held on, and let herself forget everything else as well. Everything but this.
"Now you've done it." Imelda murmured, draping one arm possessively over her husband's chest and resting her head in the hollow of his neck.
It was still entirely too hot and clammy lie this close, but Hector would be leaving on another tour in the morning, and neither of them was willing to waste what time they had left before dawn.
"Ay, am I in trouble?" Hector teased, tracing his fingertips up and down Imelda's arm. " ...You weren't complaining a few minutes ago."
" 'm not letting you leave." Imelda announced imperiously, pinning his hip down beneath her knee as she curled in tight around him. "You're staying in this bed forever."
"I think there's a flaw in your plan, mi amor." Hector pointed out, peppering kisses over her hair until she finally lifted her head to intercept him. The way he looked at her still gave her butterflies. ...Like she was the only woman in the world, and always would be.
"Don't be ridiculous, it's foolproof." Imelda dismissed impatiently, nestling in again. "My plan is perfect. It's decided."
"Do I get a vote?"
"No," came the muffled reply from his collarbone.
"Well... if mi reina commands-"