Rose felt like she was in heaven in bed with the air conditioning blasting out cool air fro the vents, escaping the chill under a thin, pale blue sheet, both her bare legs bent underneath as she had a physical copy of a script in her hands, flipping through some pages of a project that had been sent to her recently that she was now just getting some time to do more than scan.
In the very back of her mind she knew that Ezra had something in mind for the evening, she knew he had relayed messages in tiny fragments, never giving away what they would be doing or if she had to be dressed or done up a certain way. Truth be told, Rose kind of assumed he had forgotten, even though he did tell her she had to be upstairs for a bit, naturally cynical she assumed he was on a call with a music exec, a bandmate, someone calling about music or business and whatnot, she didn't really question why he needed her up there, just that she had to be upstairs for a while, to which she complied and tucked herself in to wind down on this lazy Sunday in a pair of oversized shorts and a grey tank top, nothing that screamed glamour.
The disruption came without warning; his legs on either side of her, pinning her to the bed the way he would have had he wanted to perform a very specific, a very sexual task at that. Biting her lip with suspicion growing on her face, her hands reached out to him as he bent himself down, pressing quick kisses that punctuated his words, one by one, each shorter than the last, only making her groan and sigh whenever she'd press her fingers into the backs of his arms to demand more out of him. "Stop talking," she instructed, thinking this was going to go in a very different direction than it was, her back arching only slighting against the soft end of the mattress beneath her when he took her lip into his mouth with his teeth. When he got up, she exhibited the same pout resting on his face, one that could have done without him pulling away and off of her. "Please, please, please," she continued to whine softly.
"You can't just come up here and ---" her train of thought stalled as he hoisted her up and over his shoulder, her legs kicking as she started to laugh, her voice louder now. "Baby, come on. This isn't a fucking game!" The tail end of that threat fell in pitch as she recognized, ever so suddenly, how Rocco had been quiet for about twenty minutes now, in his crib, and she didn't want to call attention to them acting like fools while he was no longer stirring and crying for one of them to take him and coax him into slumber.
It was one surprise after the next once her fists of fury banged on his back like she was playing the silent bongos. It was dark, the canopy of sheets and pillows and lights strung in peaks and valleys to create this paradise inside Brooklyn, inside their living room on a hazy Sunday evening, it was divine and quite possibly the most adorable outcome she could have imagined seeing it all done right before her eyes. Mouth ajar with her arms at her sides, her lips didn't last long in a soft line, they quickly jumped up, her cheeks red and raised as she turned her body to face him.
"Really." It wasn't formed in the way of a question, but the way it came out, anyone would have assumed it was her way of asking if this was truly theirs and for them, their own little hideaway. "Really," she repeated once more, this time with her lips attacking his cheek, dragging her mouth against patches of skin while she excitedly tap danced her feet against the wooden floor like a child jumping up and down over the promise of a new toy.
She had no idea there was more: the food, the desserts, the overly strong cocktails waiting for them. She had no clue what was in store for them, and yet, this felt like enough, this felt like more than enough, the perfect way to settle in for the evening and wrap up with each other. "I knew something was up when you stopped feeling me up in bed and dragged me down here. I knew it. I knew it." She was squealing now, exhaling out of his arms and bolting forward through the opening where she laid herself out on her back, her arms bent with her hands pressed against her stomach, looking up as she breathed in the scents of some of the candles that he had lit, a culmination of sweet and musky scents filling the confines of their adult blanket fort. When he finally joined her with the platter of sushi, she took his face in her hands and gave him a kiss, the kind that lingered and lasted, a kiss held with promise and appreciation, holding him as close as she could even when their lips were parted. "You're crazy, you know that? How could I ever lover someone as much as I love you?"
It felt innocent and sweet for a change, licking up ice cream and soy sauce, thankfully not in the same stroke, but throughout the night, indulging in each other, in the food, the drinks, the company. With her back against his chest, their legs stretched out forward as she opened her mouth wide to take a bite of the parfait on the spoon, she felt a sense of fullness taking over her. These were the moments that mattered and made sense to her the most, the ones where they created something to call their own, something special and creative. It felt corny to let the moment linger, her tongue and teeth taking down the contents of what was on the spoon as she adjusted her shoulders against him, sinking more comfortably with the happiest grin that couldn't be ignored. Dipping the spoon back into the parfait, she held one hand under the bottom of the spoon and then raised her arms up over her face and then over her hair where she pushed it back so that it was near his face, some of the sauce from the strawberries drizzling down into her hair like it was meant to, something she didn't feel at the time, but laughed about later on while he had her back pressed against the door of the shower in such a predatory way, kissing her lifts sweetly when he informed her she had the sauce in her hair this entire time, but it was so cute how she didn't have a clue, something that warranted a scratch of her nails down his lower back before he retaliated the way he knew best, by parting his lips and sending his teeth into her neck. If there was a way for every night to begin and end like this, she would take up reading even the worst of the worst scripts in bed with the air conditioning on.