Home is Where You Are

Chapter 37

Notes:

Happy early Valentine's! Let's have a Reylo Valentine's, shall we?

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Valentine's day is coming and he's racking his brain for an idea.

He's got to make it good for her, amazing even. It's their first one together. Last year he'd sent her two dozen pink roses. He'd worried himself crazy over the color, wanting to hint at his budding feelings for her yet afraid he'd scare her off.

Pink roses mean "I admire you". It was perfect. Because he'd already come to admire her deeply.

Only he'd had them put "From your secret admirer" on the card.

It had scared her. She thought her ex had sent them. Then he'd had to scramble to calm her down and finally admit it was him.

She'd been so relieved that she'd let it slip by what he was trying to say. He'd been so upset at her fear that he'd become angry, forgetting to explain his intentions.

Then he'd made sure that no deliveries were made to her at work from Armitage Hux or an unlisted sender. He'd had a long talk with security, obtaining a picture of the man she feared. Security knew his face and knew if he was spotted even outside the building, they were to call him immediately.

It was how he'd first learned that there was an ex that scared her. He wanted to find the man and kill him.

He shakes his head fiercely, refusing to focus on that memory right now. He went back to thinking of something to send her.

Afraid that any flowers would remind her of that day, he decided to just keep it simple. A nice night out, maybe a quiet dinner and then home.

He still can't believe he shares his home with her. He'd never really thought of his place as home. It was just his place.

Then he'd found his home. Rey. Now Rey makes his place home. He loves seeing her everywhere in their home. Her throw on his couch, her favorite coffee mug next to his.

She's made him into a sentimental mess of a man. He's happy though, for the first time in his life. Truly happy.

In his musings, it suddenly occurs to him. The ballet. He'll take her to the ballet. She's never been. He quickly reserves the private balcony, glad that he can enjoy it alone with her. The performance is Swan Lake. He can't wait to surprise her.

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The morning of Valentine's, he fixed the awful peanut butter waffles for her.

She was wrong, for once. He hates them. Something about the texture, it just feels off. But she loves them so he fixes them for her.

After finishing them, in bed, no less (after all it IS Valentine's day), he removes the tray and crawls back in the bed with her. He'd gotten up early to spoil her and now he's sleepy. He nuzzles her neck as his head lays on her chest. She braids his hair haphazardly.

"Love you," he murmurs against her skin.

"I think I love you too…." she says, stifling a giggle.

He mocks an injured soul, gasping.

"You think??"

"Mmm-hmm...I think…."

He leans up and over her, pinning her to the bed with his massive weight. He delves into her waist with his face, blowing raspberries and nibbling.

"You think, huh? Just think?"

She shouts in laughter, squirming to get away, pulling at his hair and kicking. It's pure sweet torture how he tickles her, his long fingers goosing at the other side of her bare waist. Her skin cooling where he's bitten her, he trails across the top of her belly, rubbing his stubble. She gasps, thrashing, trying to get away yet wanting to be closer.