I've got to say as I was writing the airport stuff I thought - I could make this a weekly show, a 30 minute sitcom where all we do is see Charles and Elsie being all domestic in various places/situations. I think Jim & Phyllis would be fab in it!

Apologies for any typos in this chapter - it's very late and my eyes are very heavy but I wanted to get it out there.

Chapter 23

Italy

They're at the airport. They've been at the airport sine 7:45 that morning. It's now lunchtime and Charles is starting to get agitated. When he got up and started pacing Elsie thought it best to distract him with food so fetched lunch from one of the cafes dotted about the place.

"Okay, so the closest I could get to a cheese and onion sandwich is this posh cheese and onion – I know it's not what you like," she shrugged, handing the sandwich across. "I've done my best."

"Thank you sweetheart." He moved his bag and she plonked herself down beside him. "What are you having?"

"Some fancy vegetarian thing – 'argi bargi', I thought it sounded fun."

He wrinkled his nose up, "What's wrong with decent, normal sandwiches?"

"People want exciting sandwiches I guess," she bent forward, tucking her bag between her feet so she could free up her hands and eat. "Style and show."

"Style and show gone too far," he said between a mouthful of sandwich.

"Yes, I can see it's really put you off."

He swallowed, "I'm starving, we need a proper meal."

"I know, but we can't just go sit in some restaurant, our luck we'd order and they'd call our flight."

"Ridiculous system. You get here at 8:00 in the morning, over two hours before we fly, only to learn there's a four hour delay anyway."

"It's the first day of the summer holidays, it's bound to be busy."

"Which was obviously a surprise to these clowns."

"Charles," she says gently, trying to hush him.

"Well… I need to rant."

"There's nothing we can do about it but wait. Or not go away and I want to, so tough, because I don't want to go without you."

He twists his head towards her, a lopsided smile on his face, watching her eating.

"What?" She asks, "Do you want to try this?"

"No. It's fine. Did you get drinks?"

"Yes, I've hidden them in my back pockets."

"You and that teacher sarcasm Mrs Hughes."

"There was a huge queue and I couldn't be bothered to wait, I'll go back."

"I'll go," he said, though remained exactly where he was.

"There's one thing, this delay means you've forgotten your nerves."

He sighed, "I suppose so." He scrunched up his sandwich box, "That wasn't half bad."

"Good. Do you want to rant about something else now?"

He paused for a moment, mulling it over. "No. I'm good."

She chuckled. "Get a different paper when you go for the drinks, I've read The Guardian and I packed my book for by the pool."

"I've brought three books and they're all in my suitcase. Oh, I'll tell you what my latest moan is."

She rolled her eyes, taking the second half of her sandwich out of the box. "Go on."

"Petrol stations, or rather their forecourts."

She leant back in her chair, stretching her legs out as she listened to him.

"They design them so cars can go either side, the pump is long enough to stretch around your vehicle should you not be able to park with your petrol cap directly next to the pump."

"Yes."

"So, why do I get stuck in a mile long queue in Sainsbury's because some stupid people insist on parking next to the pump, you know with the thing on their side. I made a big show of pipping my horn, pulling around this stupid woman and reversing into a space. Then pulling the hose around my car and proceeding to fill up. Made sure she saw too."

She was staring at him now, torn between laughing and shaking her head, "You do realise people, I would say especially women, wouldn't appreciate some middle aged guy annoyingly blasting his horn when you're all in the same queue."

"Then they should learn how to use the forecourt properly."

"Goodness Charles," she rubbed his knee. "It's a good job I know you. I'll go get the tea shall I?" She was getting to her feet.

"Thanks love. Hot chocolate for me."

"Oh no, you've had two already."

"It's the back bone of my day."

"That's that damned coffee machine getting you hooked, no more hot chocolate. Tea. And we can maybe share something sweet."

"You're bossy."

"It's in my nature," she leant forward and kissed his head. "Silly man, it's because I care."

He stared after her as she headed to the coffee stand, kept his eyes on her as she queued. She was wearing a blue and white striped dress and red jacket and he thought she resembled some elegant Parisian, and when she was walking back to him he found his eyes drawn to the curve of her breasts, the way her jacket seemed to accentuate them and there was stirring in his groin – he crossed his legs and breathed deeply.

"What's wrong?" She asked, handing him his tea.

"Nothing."

She sat down beside him again, "Oh damn, I forgot my paper. Will you go for me honey, I've been up twice?"

"I will, when I've had my tea."

"I want to read it as I drink," she was digging in her bag for her reading glasses. "It will only take you a second."

"I just need a minute."

"What ever for?"

"I can't say right now, but it has something to do with how good you look in that dress."

My dre–," she stared at him, glanced at his folded legs then giggled. "Oh, for goodness sake. You're old enough to know better."

"Shut up."

She put her glasses on, scanning the information leaflet in her hand. "Talk to me about something dull and it will take the edge off." She said lowly. "Or I could go sit elsewhere, if I'm so irresistible." She teased.

"Don't you dare." He huffed, sipped his tea and burnt his tongue. "I read something about bees and cocaine." He suddenly said.

"Here we go."

She slipped her glasses back off and settled back to listen.

"Apparently they're better at detecting the drug than sniffer dogs and much quicker to train. Literally you can get them to identify it relatively easily."

"Show them a picture and they're off?" She quipped.

"Nooo… You get them to identify it with sugar, mix the cocaine with sugar, which they easily detect and soon they get to the point where they sniff out cocaine because they think they'll be getting sugar."

"Hmm, interesting." She glanced to the ceiling, "Imagine all the bees buzzing about though, you wouldn't be able to eat your caramel slice."

He turned his head to her, "You got me a caramel slice?"

"Oh, yes, it's in my bag. To share," she added, snapping it in half. "And because I'm kind I'll let you have the bigger half."

"Thank you." He started munching on it. "I suppose the bees could be a hazard."

"You think?"

"Hmm. Any word from the estate agent?"

"Not when I last checked. No email. No text. No missed call." She patted his knee. "Don't worry, go with the whole 'no news is good news' vibe. We'll know soon enough."

"Not soon enough for my nerves. Are you going to get that bag?"

"I did like it. But it was very expensive."

"Use your bingo win."

"That's a good idea. I could spoil myself a little with an airport purchase."

He lifted his arm around her shoulders and drew her to him, "You deserve it." He didn't add 'you've had a hell of a time of it' but the words lay there upon his tongue.

For a while they sat in silence, Elsie leant against his arm, holding the paper open in front of her as they both read it.

"We must look like two old fools," she said, waiting for him to finish an article. "Sitting here with our glasses on sharing a newspaper."

"Least we're not snogging in public." He said, indicating a young couple on the bench near the windows.

"You do realise that's illegal once you get to our age." She sniggered at his huffed reply.

He glanced over his glasses at her, "Don't tempt me." Then he grabbed her wrist, "The board's just changed."

"Is our flight on it?"

"Think so, get the tickets, we'll check. No damn announcement." He complained as she dug the tickets out of her bag, just as the announcer spoke over the intercom.

"Gate 11, off we go." She said, getting up, he was still holding her arm. "What?"

"I suddenly feel sick…"

It was late evening by the time they arrived at the villa and Elsie had a pounding headache.

She carried their bags through into the lounge area and set them down, searching through hers for painkillers.

Charles soon joined her, dragging in their cases.

"Lord above that was the journey from hell. How you feeling?"

"Terrible Like my head's going to explode."

"Go to bed, we can unpack tomorrow. I'll get you some water."

There were essentials in the fridge – water, milk, juice – and eggs and bread on the side.

"You hungry?" He asked, taking her the water.

She shook her head, "Right. Don't laugh at me."

"Why would I laugh when you're ill?"

She raised her eyebrows, eyed the pills in her hand warily before placing one on her tongue, tilting her head back and taking a huge gulp of water, closing her eyes and bouncing on her feet as she tried to swallow.

He chortled, but covered his mouth, he'd forgotten about her aversion to tablets.

"Gone?" He asked when she'd settled down.

"Yes. One more. And I said don't laugh. Turn around."

He did as she asked and started unpacking his bag, laying items out on the coffee table. "I'll have to give you the grand tour tomorrow," he said, "when it's light."

"A-ha. I like it though, I like it in here. Very rustic," she said wandering about the room. "And I especially like that there's a pool outside."

"Not huge but big enough for splashing about in. Bedroom's this way…" he led her through the building, it was all whitewashed walls and terracotta tiles and it felt cool compared to the evening heat outdoors.

"There's a twin room there, another one down the hall and the master is at the end." He pushed open the door, walking directly to the large patio windows. "Opens up to the pool see, barbeque area, it's not bad is it?"

"It's beautiful. I like it very much." She stood beside him, rubbing her forehead. "I'm sorry though Charles, I've got to close my eyes."

"I know." He pulled the light curtains across, she was already undressing as he turned down the bed sheets.

"I don't even have the energy to even wash my face."

He tucked her in, kissing her forehead. "The en-suites to your left, right there," he pointed, "should you feel ill."

"Thank you." She mumbled, her eyes closed.

"I won't be long, I'll just go check things over and have a cup of tea."

She was already asleep.

Elsie lay on the lounger by the pool reading; they'd slept late then had breakfast on the patio and agreed they'd spend their first day resting. Though Charles had insisted they call Anna first to check she was doing okay in the shop – she was. And she was doing okay in their flat too.

Squinting she laid her book open on her stomach, looking around her. The view was magnificent, they were fairly high up in the valley and surrounded by greenery and it was wonderfully quiet. She hadn't realised how badly she'd needed peace and quiet until she was there.

"It's only a short walk to the lake, if you want to go later." Charles said, turning the page on his book.

"When it's cooler," she said. "I might have a swim."

"You know, I might join you." He put his book aside, got up and stretched. He did look mighty good in those trunks. Sitting up she watched as he moved to the edge of the pool and dived in, emerging clear across the other side.

"Come on then, the water's lovely."

She dropped her legs over the side of the bed, "I can't do all that diving nonsense."

"Just get in," he said, already doing lengths down the pool.

She used the steps, dipping her toe in at first and then swimming from the edge across to the opposite side.

"That is good." She did around six lengths before stopping where he leant against the side.

"I think you've caught the sun here," he said, tenderly touching her shoulders.

"Oh, my damn pale skin. All my freckles will be out."

"They already are," he kissed her nose. "Want to learn how to dive?"

"It's not really me," she said, screwing up her face. "But you could teach me how to front crawl."

"Fair enough."

"Do a little demonstration first for me so I get the idea." She stood back, watching as he set off. "Hey!"

He got to his feet again. "What?"

"Not so fast, I can't see the movement."

He set off again, deliberately slowing his stroke and making a show of it.

"Ha, bloody ha. Okay, I get the idea. Splash, splash, splash. Gonna have to put my head under."

"Afraid your mascara will run?" He teased, deliberately splashing her.

She returned it hitting the water with the side of her hand, "I'm au naturel today, as I thought you might have noticed. Didn't seem a reason for showy make-up when it's just the two of us lounging around. You've seen me in all states now, no backing out."

"Wouldn't try. What are you doing?"

"Hankering down, like you did."

"You need to stretch your body out," he reached to hold her torso and she gasped, giggled then pulled away from him.

"You know I'm ticklish there."

He sniggered, "Must have forgotten."

"Like hell you did," she splashed him again. "Shall I mess with your sensitive bits when you're trying to swim?"

"Are you being risqué Mrs Hughes…?"

"Not intentionally. Now, try again. I need instructions."

She listened and watched as he demonstrated and explained, so used to being the teacher not the student she realised how damn hard it was to concentrate and focus on every bit of information.

"Okay, you need to bring your stomach up a little," he bent over her, smiling, "I am going to touch you now Elsie, don't freak out."

"Oh bugger off."

Smiling he pressed his hand against her stomach, pushing her up in the water, "That's it, maintain that line, swing your arm up and over…"

She did as he said and whacked him straight in the side of the head, knocking him back in the water.

"Oh god," she scrambled to her feet. "Oh I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

He was holding his jaw and treading water as he backed into the middle of the pool and she went after him.

"I hurt you…"

He flexed his jaw as she got closer, "Just a little. It's alright now."

"Oh, I'm sorry." She gently, tentatively touched his chin. "Think you'll be okay?"

"I should hope so, it might interfere with my kissing technique though. And I was hoping to get lucky this holiday."

"Were you indeed?"

His hands were already sliding around her waist. "Hmm, I was."

She tiptoed her fingers up his arm and over his shoulders, "Want to see if it still works then?"

"Just a little practise might be good."

"Mmm, just a little…"

She was smiling as she touched her lips to his, giggling when he groaned elaborately in agony.

"Want me to stop?" She said, swaying her body against his.

"Just try it again, just to see."

Her mouth was trembling with laughter when they kissed again, until he deepened it – weeks of longing pouring out – and his hands had slid down her back to grip her bottom.

They were turning in the water as they kissed, slowly, no need to rush. No outside noise or worries or concerns.

"Are you relaxed?" He whispered by her ear, kissing up her face.

"Yes. Finally." She squeezed his shoulders. "I didn't realise how much I needed to be alone with you."

He felt his chest flutter and he held her tighter, lifting her legs up to circle his waist as they moved fluidly in the water, the early afternoon sun on their bodies.

"I realised how much I need to be alone with you." He kissed her again, deeply now, his tongue finding hers, until she was moaning softly into his mouth.

"Take me to bed," she murmured between kisses.

He was hovering over her, doing his best to hold back, to exercise restraint – and it had all been going so well but the minute they were naked and in bed the mood shifted. Once again he was on the edge of immersing himself in the pleasure of her body and she was frustrated.

"It doesn't matter," she whispered by his ear as he smothered her neck in kisses, "I don't mind." She rubbed his back.

"I mind," he pulled out, his body already complaining at the loss of her heat. "And besides we haven't finished yet."

She closed her eyes and breathed deeply as his mouth moved over her, stretching her arms above her head. He was between her thighs, gently touching, stroking, realising how sensitive she was, remembering just what she liked.

When her moans deepened he sensed a shift in her and slid back up her body and she kissed him hungrily. He rolled onto his back, holding her hips as he encouraged her on top of him.

She leant forward, never breaking the kiss, rubbing against him, teasing herself as much as him. She wanted this so badly, maybe that was the problem, she was trying too hard.

Rolling back she altered the angle and let her fingers wander between their bodies, guiding him inside her.

He sucked in a tight breath, his hips jerking up of their own accord, filling her completely and she took her time in moving, rising and falling on him, rolling her hips, her pelvis.

"Oh god Els, wait…" he said suddenly, gripped her hips, stilling her movements, "Wait, wait…"

She bent forward; the movement making him gasp loudly, "I don't want to wait." She whispered, wobbling her hips, "It feels so good."

He closed his eyes, bit the inside of his cheek as she moved above him, holding onto her hips, holding himself back until she was moaning his name, a keening sound tumbling from her lips. And he recognised the tone. And he recognised the tightening of her body, the joy as she flooded him with heat.

"Elsie!" He gasped, his hips jerking upward, unable to hold back any longer.

"Yes," she breathed and then it merged into a mangled garble of names and endearments and agonising moans as finally, finally, she climaxed – and he wasn't far behind. It seemed to her that it went on an eternity, the rolling of her hips, the tremors of pleasure shooting through her, crawling through her body, rendering her soft and languid. And his hands holding her waist, his eyes transfixed on her face as she melted in front of her. She fell forward slowly, her palms hitting the pillow by his head.

"Oh, oh, oh…" she smiled, giggling.

"I felt that," he mumbled, kissing her face, delighted.

"Believe me, so did I!" She twisted her face, meeting his mouth. "Thank god. Oh thank you."

He slid his hand into her hair, "Thank me? Thank you."

She nuzzled his nose, joyful in their shared intimacy. "Yes, thank you. You're wonderful."

His hands were stroking up her spine, "You are," their lips teasing, touching, "Let's not move from this position." He sighed happily, closing his eyes.

"Oh I was rather hoping we might try it again."

He smirked, "Just give me ten minutes alright."

She was smirking as she slid down his body, her mouth working over his chest. "Not sure I have that long…"

Elsie slept after. Collapsed and curled at his side, her head on his stomach. He sat leant back against the cool wall, stroking her hair, thanking whatever had brought her into his life.

When he tried to think back on what life was like before her he couldn't even recall what he'd done with his time. Years and years of loneliness – self-enforced isolation – attending parties and Christmases and Birthdays on his own and pretending that was okay because why would he want to be tied down to a relationship, to trying to make things work as a couple when he could simply please himself?

And now she was with him and he realised how short-sighted and foolish he'd been. There was nothing better than this, nothing more precious.

He eyed the clock as his stomach rumbled, almost five, he wanted to cook for her, make something good.

Resting her head on the pillow he slid from the bed, dressed and left her a note before walking down to the small town square.

It took him an hour to walk there and back and when he returned she was still sleeping. He prepared the base of the tomato sauce (garlic, oil, chilli) and the fresh pasta he'd bought from a local. He was just pouring the wine, savouring the deep, rich red, when she came in, soft and pink and mussed from sleep.

"Hi," she said, sliding her hands around his waist and resting her head against his back.

"Hello beautiful, that was a good sleep."

"I must be making up for months of early mornings." She kissed him through his shirt. "This smells good. Can I help?"

"You can slice the bread if you like."

"Will do." She rolled up the sleeves of her robe and started slicing. "It smells delicious."

"I got it just down the road, we can walk tomorrow if you like, they have a few shops but we'll have to drive into a bigger town if you want to really shop."

"I'm happy pottering about for a few days, a walk down there tomorrow sounds nice. Where are the plates?"

"Above you, that cupboard."

As she stretched the top of her robe fell open and he gasped, "Mrs Hughes, you're naked under there."

"I just got up." She smiled, "And besides my shoulders ache from the sun, I couldn't stand to put my bra back on."

"Having never worn one I'll take your word for it."

"They're almost as bad as tights and heels – they look kinda sexy but after walking round in them all day the sex-appeal has definitely worn off."

He was chuckling as he served the pasta, carrying their dishes to the table as she followed with the wine.

"Shall we toast?" she said, lifting up her glass.

"Absolutely. To… a wonderful holiday?" He tapped her glass with his.

"How about, to Charles Carson, my rock this year."

He smiled warmly, "Happy to be."

After dinner they sat and talked at the table until the sun had set – he told her of the trips he'd taken there during his teenage years with Violet, and later with Richard and Isobel, he always the odd one out with the young lovebirds.

They washed the dishes side-by-side at the sink, listening to the radio, Elsie singing along to the songs she knew, swaying in time to the ones she didn't.

"You want to take a walk?" He said, drying up the last plate.

"Now?"

"Yes, why not. We could walk to the lake, it's ten minutes at best."

"I'd have to get dressed."

"Just put a dress on over the top."

"Charles Carson! I'll be naked, that's scandalous."

"And a huge turn on." He said, nudging her hip with his. "Live a little Elspeth."

"You've changed." She laughed. "I had to beg you to get into that pool in Dubai after hours."

"What can I say – it's been a good day, I'm a little tipsy and I spent the afternoon in bed with you."

"You can just say – and I finally got laid again, I won't take offence."

"Oh really!" He said, swiping at some errant bubbles on the counter and sending them in her direction.

They were both laughing together as she grabbed a handful from the bowl and wiped them down his nose.

"Very adult Elsie." He shook his head. "Go put something on, let's go."

He's right, the walk barely takes them ten minutes and the path is hardly difficult – she's in flip-flops and is fine. Though she isn't quite so sure about the walk back up the hill.

He knows a clearing by the water, where he used to come down with Richard and the canoe as boys. And once there the greenery opens up, the lake still and flat, and the moon reflecting off of it. As Elsie stares down the water there's a point on the horizon where she can't tell if it's lake or sky she's looking at.

"It's very beautiful here," she says, slipping off her flip-flops. It's a warm night and she sheds her cardigan and leaves it over a low hanging branch, stepping into the water and sighing as it tickles her toes.

"Come on then," she says without turning and he's already bending to remove his shoes and rolling up his trousers.

The water is warm around his ankles, maybe just above them, probably up to her shins, he thinks, sometimes he forgets how much shorter she is, different without heels.

"I should have brought my camera down."

"We can come again tomorrow."

He's standing beside her, looking out at the view, and turns to watch as a bird skims the surface, disappearing out of sight. He catches her expression, serene and still, like the water itself.

Taking her hand he moves behind her, drawing her body flush against his – she still smells of sex and the bed they'd shared and he closes his eyes breathing her in. He's got his chin on her head, arms around her and they're staring at the clearest night sky he thinks he's ever seen.

"Tell me about the stars," she whispers, afraid if she speaks louder she'll somehow break the mood.

He can easily point out constellations, he's spent so much time there over the years it's second nature. She listens attentively, quietly, pointing up at some things to ask questions and he alternates between talking and kissing her cheek, the side of her neck, the back of her head. She smells so good and it's so nice to be alone with her without all of the other distractions the world brings.

"I love you," he says quietly into her hair, happily, squeezing her tight to him, swaying her in his arms, listening to the water move about their feet. It's been so long since he's said the words, doing his level best not to rush her, not to push or bully, he knows how hard the therapy has been, can only imagine the things it's brought up – and he's never wanted to make her feel forced into it. "I love you," he says again, clearer now, breathing the words out into the night air by her ear.

He feels her breathe in, her chest move, then out again as she exhales and her heart is thudding beneath his palm.

"I love you too." She says simply. The words come naturally, she didn't even have to consider saying them in the end, they were just there.

He freezes, grips her body and turns her quickly so he can see her face, "What did you just say?"

"Don't embarrass me." She looks away, glancing to the floor then over his shoulder to the clearing and the lake.

He turns her fully to face him, his hands on her shoulders, "I promise I won't. But if I say, I love you Elsie…" His face is pale, concerned, eyes wide as if in shock.

"Then I say… I love you too." She says, touching his cheek with her fingertips.

He's shocked, delirious, overwhelmed… "You love me? You actually love me, not just being nice?"

"Charles…"

"No, but I have to know that, I… You love me, you're saying that?"

"Yes." She circles her arms around him and pulls him close, "Yes."

"Just now, you just realised it?"

"No, for a while. A long time."

"You didn't bloody well say?"

She chuckles, "I wanted to be absolutely sure. Not of you, I am sure of you, but of myself. I wanted to be sure of my own feelings, separate my feelings for you from everything else – does that make sense?"

He nods, afraid if he speaks he'll cry.

"You can say it again though, if you like."

She smiles, leaning forward to kiss him, then whispering by his mouth, "I love you."

They walk back hand-in-hand to the villa. Charles knows he's grinning like a fool but he can't help it. It's one thing to suspect she loved him, to hope, to draw out little nuances of feeling from what she said. But to actually be told it – three times no less in less than two minutes – is overwhelming.

His heart doesn't seem to want to come down from the high.

He thinks he'll make love to her again, tenderly and reverently, long into the night. That he'll hold her and whisper of his devotion and deep, deep love for her. And for the first time she'll repeat it. Return it.

But when they get in it feels chilly and he lights a fire. She's curled on the sofa in front of it and he fetches the half bottle of wine they have left and digs out a blanket from the cupboard. He considers switching the lamp on but the golden glow of the fire is light enough and the mood is perfect.

He hands her the blanket as he sets about pouring the wine, standing at the other side of the coffee table as he pours. The wine is almost spilt as she lifts the dress from her body, over her head, and throws it over the back of the sofa. He'd forgotten she was naked… he'd damn well forgotten.

She looks like perfection to him. All pale skin and the light from the fire flickering over her; her nipples are peaked from the night-time walk and she shivers as she pulls the blanket around her.

"You're over dressed." She smiles, leaning back.

"You're perfection," he replies, already pushing down his trousers. "Do you realise that?"

She's chuckling, turning slightly, moving cushions in order to get comfy, and the blanket slips to her waist.

"You have the most perfect breasts." He says, throwing his shirt aside, eagerly moving to join her. Bending, kissing each one, his palms sliding up to cup them. "So beautiful."

"I don't know how to respond to that." She smiles, one hand sliding into his hair, tugging on the strands. "I should return the compliment."

"Mmm," he suckles on her left nipple and she gasps, her head falling back. "Compliment away."

She breathes deeply, "Come sit on here," she encourages, her hand on his shoulders, and he moves to sit with her on the sofa, one leg tucked beneath the other.

She gets to her knees so she's in front of him, forcing him to lean back, leaning on top of his chest to kiss him. "You have very beautiful eyes," She teases, suckling on his lower lip. "And the most magnificently talented hands," she giggles as his fingers find the sensitive spot on her waist.

"Mmm," she's moving over him, her mouth working down his neck, his chest, hands trailing lower, catching the silken warmth of his erection in her palm. "And just delicious…" her voice trails off as she moves lower and he shuts his eyes as her tongue does things to him he never dreamed possible.

Later they lay curled up on the sofa, her back to his chest, facing the dying fire, half wrapped in the thick blanket.

"When did you know for sure?" He whispers by her ear, aware she's almost asleep.

She sighs, "I knew from quite early on that this wasn't just some fling. Before Christmas, maybe late November. Then I got scared, after New Year, it was so nice being there with you and I remember thinking I'd like to spend every New Year with you."

"I thought that too," he's kissing her shoulder, can feel her thumb rubbing his arm as it lies over her.

"I didn't know how to handle those feelings so I figured if I backed off they'd just disappear. Only they didn't. So I backed off even more. And when we got home from the Easter break and weeks went by without you talking to me…" she closes her eyes suddenly, recalling the moment in the car listening to that song.

"You sent me that song and I was crying as I drove to work and I missed you. I just missed you. I think I probably knew then."

Its months ago and he feels sad that so long has passed with those feelings held inside.

"When did you know?" She asks, her eyelids heavy.

"The first moment I met you." He kissed the back of her head.

"Don't tease."

"The first moment you smiled at me in the shop. The first moment you spoke to me. The first time I touched your skin when your hand touched mine passing a book across the counter. The first time I smelled you. Tasted you. My heart was lost."

She wiggles, turns in his arms, her eyes watery, "I promise to take good care of it from now on." She says gently, snuggling against him. "Because it's very precious to me."

Well, from the reviews I've read I think many of you have been waiting for that moment for a long time - - I sincerely hoped it lived up to expectations... x