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After shaking Aiden awake I stand in the large living room impatiently waiting for him to stand. This, the entryway, and the bathroom are the only rooms in the house I've seen so far. "Okay, but like why does it feel like Christmas morning?" I ask him, trying to pull his arm up to lift him, as if it were possible.

He lays on his side, the white plush rug sunk in from his body. The flames still going in the fireplace, "Give me five minutes. Come snuggle." He begs, attempting to pull me down. I huff, and then he sighs, "Fine." But I don't miss the smirk that plays on his face.

The second he smiles, I dart. Rushing through our home while he pushes off the ground and stands, he chases me up the winding set of stairs. Still in my pajamas -his shirt and a pair of shorts- and only in socks. I dash around, soaking in every moment of his carefree laughter filling in the empty halls.

"What's this?" I ask, pointing to a closed-door to my right. Deciding the top floor was where I wanted to explore first. I open it, this must be our room. It's gorgeous, tall ceilings and a large floor area.

He clasps his hands together, "Guest room." He tells me.

I turn to look at him, "This is the guest room." I say with doubt. He nods and we continue walking further down the wide hallway, "And this?" I gesture to another massive empty room.

"Another guest room."

I place my hands on my hips, "And just how many guestrooms does this house have?" He can't help but laugh at my question.

He places a finger on his chin in thought, "I'm not sure." He replies, not wanting to answer. I narrow my eyes and he laughs, "Fine. There are Sixteen rooms."

I gasp, "Sixteen!" My head spins a little, "And what are we going to do with sixteen rooms?"

Aiden places his hands on my shoulders, calming me. "I know the idea of so many rooms can be overwhelming. I know you would rather have a smaller home, but I promise you, once you get every room how you want it then it will feel more... quaint." The last word sounds foreign rolling off his tongue.

"A mansion." I laugh, "Will be quaint?" I can't help the giggles that follow as I slide around the polished hardwoods in my socks. "And for the record, I wouldn't rather have any home but this one. It's what you hand chose for us." He smiles at my words. "So, we have to get sixteen beds?"

He laughs, "No, baby. Maybe six bedrooms, including ours. The others are for things like offices, libraries, a gym." His eyes bore into mine. "Whatever you can imagine, I will deliver for you Emilia. No request is too grand. This is our home... I want you to make it yours."

"Why are you so good to me? Why do all this for me?"

"That's a loaded question. But to simplify, it takes an actual angel to love someone like me. I don't know how you do it Emilia but I'm so fucking thankful that you do." I don't even try to hide my blush from his sweet words.

We pass a few bathrooms and more guestrooms. "Where is our bedroom?"

He points straight down, I take off on a race. Sliding to a stop when I reach the bottom stairs and bolt through the hallway only to be met with the most glorious kitchen I've ever seen.

White marble countertops provide a clean look, white matching shelves and cupboards adorn the walls. There may be no furniture, but he spared no expense on appliances. Double ovens, industrial size stovetop, a fridge that's triple the size of anything I've ever seen sits tucked inside of a hidden door. It looks like a pantry cabinet, but when you open it your met with the fridge on one side and the freezer on the other.

"It's beautiful." My voice is quiet, shocked really.

Wrapping me from behind he kisses my cheek, "I thought you wanted to see the bedroom." His tone is seductive as he playfully smacks my ass.

I turn to him, throwing my arms around his neck "Show me the way."

I avoid looking out of the windows to the backyard as we pass, trying to soak up all the surprises one at a time.

Aiden pulls the handles on Two beautifully intricate white french doors. Walking into what is our bedroom, my jaw drops. It's unlike the rest of the house, this one is shaped like a rectangle. A reading nook sits flush inside of one wall, a bed adorns the other and from the corner of my eye you can't miss the floor to ceiling windows that showcase what I assume is the backyard, but I'm not peeking yet.

I twirl into the bathroom, which is bigger and grander than any house I've ever lived in. A large tub sits on old-style claws, which creates a luxurious feel to the already insane space. An empty walk-in closet sits nuzzles in the corner.

"It's so perfect," I tell him, in awe. He nods his head towards the back window, I turn slowly. Since there are no curtains I walk up to it, realizing it's an entryway into the backyard... which is breathtaking.

I peek out of the window. Massive trees shoot up from perfectly placed areas, hedges and shrubs perfectly trimmed to match the rich décor. A pool and hot tub sit to the left of what appears to be a circular courtyard. The winter normally makes things look drab, but the vibrancy of the lush grass throws me off. I was right about hearing a fountain, in the middle of the courtyard sits a marble one. Water trickles from the top, cascading down the sides, and finally landing in the bottom.

Then, my breath hitches in my throat. "Aiden, is that a..." I narrow my eyes to get a better look. "A greenhouse," I say finally, my eyes fixate on the only pop of color in the backyard. Bright yellow shines through the glass windows of the greenhouse.

Opening the backdoors I throw my socks off, deciding to walk through the grass barefoot. It's quite cold and Aiden covers my hand in his, guiding me towards the greenhouse. "Why is the grass so... not dead?" I ask, as my feet sink into the lush green grass. Everything else has hues of red, yellow, and orange. The grass should be dead at this point in winter.

"It's sod. It will be like this for a while." He smirks, pleased with himself at all of my happy reactions. But who in their right mind would be upset walking through a place like this?

He squeezes my hand tighter as we arrive at the greenhouse. I open the doors, stepping into the heated room. Greenhouses stay at a constant eighty degrees, to replicate summer weather for the plants.

I smile when I notice there are no other plants or flowers besides one specific type.

Yellow roses.

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