Their bed in the sky felt surreal, surrounded by lush greenery, wooden accents, open windows and doors, and the biggest surprise of all to them: silence. Their surroundings registered as scenery out of a Wes Anderson film, the colours tranquil and soft, the lighting natural and soothing, it was hard to believe this was reality they were living in as the two of them stirred between perfectly crisp white sheets upon a bed that they called their own for the past two mornings. The night had unraveled in their hands as to be expected from these two devious heathens, the memories stained with sex and romance from their pre-anniversary festivities were still very much fresh in their minds, rocking them to sleep in this perfect lullaby while their bodies lay entwined, unable to pull away from one another during their slumber. Neither Rose nor Ezra bothered with clothes, the sheets serving as the only form of modesty as her head curled against his chest, one of her legs wrapped around his thigh as she enveloped him with her heat, her mouth open softly as her eyes began to open, smiling before she could even make out the position she had ended up in on the morning of their anniversary.
Rose emitted a barely there groan, her body twisting like one of the many flowers rising up from the ground around the root of the tree they were stationed in, the sun pouring in from the outside window behind the bed, Ezra was still fast asleep from what she could tell, not even moving while her legs tightened around his waist. Hair collected all around her face as she tipped her neck back to catch a glimpse of his jaw. The skin was inflamed, red in little patches with teethmarks, her teethmarks, from just hours ago when she had him all to herself and their chests blended together as one. Her morning smile only widened, broadening into a smirk as she removed her hand from around his shoulder so her finger could trace the lines of the work she had done. "No one will ever get the chance to love you the way that I love you," she whispered, untangling herself so that her head could face his, his eyes still unaware she was so close as she kissed the skin the pad of her index finger outlined. "I can promise you that. You never have to worry."
It wasn't an unknown fact that Rose wasn't bursting with romantic intent. She didn't consider herself a romantic at all, to be honest, and she was open about that. Australians are very laid back, never making a giant fuss or a big deal about gestures, grand or small, and she was no different, but there was something inside of her that was triggered whenever she watched the light hit his eyelids or the way his hair just fell sloppily over the side of his forehead and he reached out to grab her as if she would scramble away if he didn't lure her in tightly enough. It was difficult not to take in these moments like the scent of fresh lilies in the springtime when all of the florists opened up their doors to everyone on the street to welcome the changing of the seasons. She was smitten, wrapped up in these feelings of wanting to unleash all of these thoughts, poetic and non, to the base of his neck while he was still breathing with his eyes closed. She felt fortunate and lucky that someone could handle her the way that he could and still come back wanting more. She wasn't sure how he was able to do it, but there he was, two years later, still reaching for her in the night.
Had it been any other morning, Rose would have been up and on her feet with Rocky in her arms or Vincent trotting behind her waiting for his breakfast. This morning was different, it was quiet and serene, taking them back to the basics of one another, falling backwards into those gaps that were filled with memories of learning the anatomy of one another, the nervous energy and awkwardness that came with the unofficial title of dating someone. She was full of emotion and she couldn't even bring herself to wake him, she simply admired the side of his face and pressed her fingers against his shoulder, his collarbone, the center of his chest and then his jaw, always going back to those reddish colored bruises that would soon turn purple, she was sure of it, all she had to do was break the skin some more. The best way to do so was waking him up to the feeling of her teeth against blemished skin, biting down as her arm took hold of his shoulder and rolled him onto his back so that she could pull half of her body on top of him, hovering over him until she watched his eyes flick open. "You said you wanted to fuck me," she said in a whisper. "You said it in your sleep so I think it must be true."
His hands found the arch in her back, dancing up her spine as she made a rectangle with her arms above his head, her smile big as she started to laugh, collapsing on his chest as she pressed a kiss to his lips and then one to his nose. She was joking, though what she said would soon come anyway. "I was going to make you breakfast, but it looks like that can't happen. I think we'll have to turn into cannibals and eat one another, and not in the way I know you're hungry for now." She couldn't stop kissing him, the sides of his mouth down to his chin and back up, holding him close the way that she was so accustomed to him holding her. "I love you," she murmured between a persistent series of kisses that she wouldn't allow to be halted. "I love you so much it makes me sick, and I want to spend another two years waking up like this with you." For a non-romantic and a realist, she was proving herself wrong all the time.