Through glossy, tired eyes, Rose felt her body flinch against the mattress, whipping over onto her side as she felt a strange, abnormal pressure against her wrist that made her panic. Her first reaction was to call for Ezra before she had even noticed the string tied around her skin. She called his name after noticing he wasn't in bed with her, the first red flag that made her heart start to thump furiously in her chest. She called for him again, this time the second syllable in his name softened as her eyes caught sight of the string around her wrist. Of course Rose had no idea that there was a phone playing all of this out for Ezra who was notably laughing, that warm, high pitched laughter of his, or worried she would end up going the route of one of the Saw films by trying to saw off her own arm. Her bare feet pushed against the plush carpet beneath her in the bedroom while she arose onto her feet now, stomping around as she took her fingers from her other hand, trying to slip underneath the string to loosen and untie it, all of which did not happen, so she did what any woman would do, she called for her boyfriend again as she slipped out from the door, her hand never leaving the loop around her wrist.
Her hands immediately went for her mouth, covering it up as she bent down on her knees a bit, swirling around in a circle as she began cracking up, laughing pouring out between the small cracks between her fingers when she saw the balloons in the formation of the words happy birthday. She let out an overly obnoxious, "fuccccck," amongst the laughter, stomping her way in the direction of the balloons where she inevitably saw Ezra who was waiting for her there, the spread of food and even more balloons waiting for her, all of it made her laughter increase in length and in pitch. Her body wobbly with excitement as she ran for her boyfriend, the one behind all of this, nearly knocking him back as she took herself against him, her eyes still laced with sleep as she kissed him, morning breath and all, longing for his lips as she cooed, "thank you," against his mouth, soft and sweet with appreciation. She was in shock, unable to fathom how he had all of this done while she was resting against the pillows. It was a surprise to her that he was able to sneak out of bed, but to his own advantage, she often slept like a log and could outlast just about every natural disaster
Her fingers, sticky with fruit juice as she fed him pieces of watermelon and pineapple, pressed against the sides of his face where his smile lines were, her face moving in close to link even more kisses to him, her smile, unwavering and bright, was being held hostage and couldn't be moved. She was in a dream-like state of elation and it was all because of Ezra who went through the trouble to do this for her. It was unbelievable. Their breakfast went as followed: her feeding him and him feeding her, their smiles matching in shape, chewing their food and pressing kisses to the other's face whenever there was a bare moment with Rose licking off the juice from the pineapple on his cheeks, her tongue running along the sweet taste of the fruit married with the salt on his skin she craved.
"I wish we could just stay like this. Me and you, and all these eggs - fuck - look at all of this food. I don't want to have to leave."
And there was a part of her that didn't, a massive part of her wanted to spend the day in bed, rolling between sheets, fucking against the glass in the shower, her catching his reflection in the mirror whenever she would look past him, brushing all of the food they had just eaten out from her teeth. She longed for their song and their dog, but there was something magical about spending her birthday with him and him alone, it brought them closer to their roots.
Rose shouldn't have suspected they were done after breakfast, oh no, there was more. After they had cleaned up, dirtied each other up, and cleaned off again, a car brought them to the airport, a sight she wasn't expecting to see. There was elecricity in her smile, in her veins and her hands as he laid out the plans for her, her breath caught in her throat as she started to flag her hands in the air, trying to wrap her head around what was going on. "For me. This is all. For me." She didn't know how to process any of this, nearly in a frenzied state that brought on tears and smiles and laughter and a kiss that lasted far too long and felt far too intimate as they were standing before the helicopter and the pilot who witnessed everything. It was their very own version of Casablanca, she said, laughing as they made their way onto the helicopter, bringing on views that you would only witness in storybooks or in dreams, it was gorgeous to cascade over the terrain and the water, lapping every possible sight up in their mind.
Wearing the tropical green inspired jumpsuit he gave her as a gift the night before at midnight, she took her shoes off when they reached the beach, holding them in her hands. Today had been surprise after surprise, leaving her dizzy and enthusiastic. She didn't feel worthy, nor did she feel like she was conveying just how special today felt and how much she appreciated every last intricate detail her trusty planner had put into it. When she spotted their little table on the beach with the dim lighting and white tablecloth, she took one of the shoes in her hands, a sandal with a slight heel, she launched it back and threw it at him, hitting him in the thigh with it. "I can't believe you! Ezra!" The waitress who was waiting there must have thought Rose was abusive, but as they neared closer, her eyes only revealed how truly happy she was to be here with him, to enjoy the sounds of the ocean merely feet from them, the cool breeze, the food and the drinks, but most of all, the company, with his hand in hers, it felt like the best way she could have imagined she would ever spend her 37th birthday.
"I want you to know how much I appreciate this - all of this - I don't know why you'd ever do something like this for me, but you did, and you continue to. Thank you, Ezra, for everything."
Back at the hotel after their bodies, wet from the pool, fell upon clean sheets, her arms lifted above her head, her wrists pinned together as Ezra moved slowly on top of her, the weight of his hips pushing into hers. As she broke her lips away from a kiss, her teeth settled into the skin on her lower lip, her eyes drifting up in the direction of her hands until he got the hint she was referring to her wrists. Her legs folded out to the sides, spreading them open as she felt the warmth of his skin against hers, gasping when he took his mouth against her clavicle. "Shame you don't have that string anymore," she hummed, alluding to the one he had around her wrist this morning.