Reece's Haven

57: Reece

"I never liked the colour brown until I saw your eyes..."
– Nautica

❀❀❀

~ R E E C E ~

February 1998

I watch Dorothy as she sleeps peacefully, her beautiful face just a few inches away from my own. I smile in amusement when drool trickles down her chin. Using my sleeve, I gently wipe it away, absolutely happy and relieved to be wrapped in her slender arms.

You're in my dreams too, huh.

Come back already, Reece...

As her words echo in my mind on repeat, I lean towards her face to kiss her forehead.

The fact that I was worried that she wasn't missing me as much as I missed her seems silly now. She missed me. A lot. I mean, the fact that she smuggled things from my room convinces me that, not only did she crave for my presence, but also that she is falling for me. Hard.

And this pleases me.

Because the sooner she starts to fully reciprocate my feelings, the sooner I can tell her my truth. And once she assimilates the truth, I will never leave her behind. I'll take her with me wherever I go, because spending five days in Paris without her made me realise how much I need her to keep me sane.

My phone buzzes on the bedside table. Swiftly, yet gently, I shift my body to reach my phone to answer it, making sure that I do not disturb Dorothy.

"Hello?" I whisper, pressing it against my left ear.

"Is this Mr. Walker?" a feminine voice asks.

"This is he."

"I am from Moyses Stevens. My team and I are just outside with your delivery."

"Great, I'll let you in," I say, before disconnecting the call.

***

"You better not let me fall, Reece," Dorothy warns, with her eyes shut, making me chuckle.

"I assure you," I begin, holding her hands as I guide her into her treehouse. "Unless you're falling for me, I will always catch you."

"Geez," she says.

When she stands at the doorway, I let go of her hands.

"Open your eyes now," I say, smiling.

She opens her breathtaking green eyes and immediately gasps when she takes in the view in front of her, covering her mouth with her both hands. Crossing my arms, I watch in a trance as she slowly walks forward, scanning the entire interior of her treehouse.

Differently coloured pastel roses.

Everywhere.

Strewn from all four top corners of the room, to the windowsill, to the shelves, and, finally, to the floor.

"This is absolutely beautiful," she breathes out, awestruck. "Did you do all this?"

"I only supervised," I say.

She nods, admiring the roses. I walk towards her until I stand just behind her, pulling out a small box from the side pocket of my black trousers. I open the box and pull out the necklace that I bought for her from Paris, and brush away her hair from the nape of her neck.

"Happy Valentine's Day," I whisper into her ear, putting the necklace around her slender neck.

She looks down, examining the pendant. Once the necklace is clasped together, she turns around, looking at me with wide eyes.