Juliette's Surprise Party

The final chapter? Sadly. Warnette feels? As promised!

Warner leads Juliette out of the elevator, one hand on the small of her back, escorting her in front of him towards his bedroom.
Technically they share the room, sleeping in the same bed almost every night; though Juliette does have her own space right next door if they ever at some point decide they want seperate beds. (Not likely.)
Covering Juliette's eyes with his free hand, Warner reaches around her and opens the door.
He plants his hands on her shoulders, squeezing once gently, and leans forward to whisper, "Keep your eyes closed, this will take less than a minute." Warner pecks her on the cheek and then moves swiftly past her into the room.
Juliette smiles to herself, excited for the coming surprise, knowing Warner never fails to make things perfect.
She hears the quick sound of a match, and then smells lavender and vanilla wafting towards her.
Candles!
There are a few other muffled sounds, and some clinking and clattering, before Juliette feels Warners hands cup her face and his lips press gently against hers.
"Open your eyes," he whispers against her lips, pulling her into the candlelit room.
She grins as Warner sits them down on a red blanket he has spread on the floor. There are two poured glasses of wine, and the rest of the bottle sits nearby, shining in the light from the candles surrounding the blanket.
Warner hands her a glass, and takes one for himself, holding it up to hers.
"This is to you, my love," he whispers, "for every moment we have spent together, and every decade we will stay together."
Gently, they tap their glasses together, and then each take a sip. Music plays ever so softly in the background, sweet and passionate instrumentals.
Together they sit; sipping their wine, whispering about everyday things, talking like they usually do at late hours of the night.
Eventually, talking becomes more scarce, and they fall into kissing. Slow and sweet and careful, like they have all the time in the world.
Hands brush along jawlines and into hair, until fingers tug at belt loops and fumble down shirt buttons.
Juliette's fingers trace Warner's collarbone, sliding the emerald dress-shirt off his shoulders, until he smiles down at her. She untucks his white undershirt, and lifts off her t-shirt while he removes his own. Gently she watches as she traces her own fingers down his abdomen, to his sides.
And her fingers stop their path midway, on the side of his body against his ribs.
Words, tattooed in a slanted flowing font, stain his ivory skin.
One day I might break free.
Warner looks down at Juliette, watching her face go from confusion, to shock, to understanding.
"You did this for me? The words from my journal... Inked on your skin..."
Gently she grazes her fingertips along the words, and he slides his nose across her jaw and down her neck, brushing softly against skin, his warm breath sending shivers up her body.
She doesn't say any more, and she doesn't have to.
Because she knows why he did it; she knows how strongly those words resonate with both of them. As a reminder of where they've been, and where they're going.
They might fix this broken world one day, and together they might break free.