[ caress ] + [ slow dance ] + [ love letter ] Â (Max of course)
[ caress ]  for  your  muse  to  gently  run  their  hand  down  my  museâs  face
Pattyâs breath hitched unconsciously as she felt Maxâs hand brush lightly down her face before cupping her cheek gently. She felt her face heat up under his touch, looking up shyly to meet his eyes as he looked down at her. âHi.â She murmured with a small laugh. He didnât say anything, just smiled at her with the softest look in his eyes, and she couldnât help but gravitate towards it, pushing herself up slightly on her toes to press a chaste kiss to his lips.
[ slow dance ]  for  your  muse  to  ask  my  muse  to  slow  dance
âI didnât know you danced.â Patty commented, her tone a little amused as she let Max take her hand and lead her out towards the dance floor. She was thankful that she used to dance in school - usually she found herself a stumbling mess when she was around Max, but at least she knew where to put her feet in a waltz, even if being in his arms still made her heart pound like crazy. âYouâre, uh, really good at this.â She muttered, letting herself settle a little closer to him, smiling as she laid her head on his chest and let herself sway gently to the music along with him.
[ love letter ]  for  your  muse  to  give  my  muse  a  love  letter  they  wrote  for  them
Clearing out her desk in the CCPD had to be one of the lowest moments of Pattyâs life. Ever since she had joined the force, she hadnât pictured herself leaving it before retirement. Whether as a detective or a CSI, she had always seen herself serving - but things had changed. People had left, died⌠the place she dedicated to her life to wasnât the same anymore and she couldnât stand to be there anymore.
Sorting through the old papers she had never gotten round to clearing through on her desk was a chore, but she would prefer to do it now than heft everything back to her home to do it. Mostly old memos she forgot to throw out, a few random letters and sticky notes - mostly from Christian. She made sure to throw them in the trash as soon as she recognised his scrawl without bothering to read them over again.
But there was one thing that gave her pause - a sealed envelope that she didnât remember seeing land on her desk, her name written on it in a neat hand that she remembered being familiar. She frowned, flipping it over to rip open the seal and take out the folded up letter inside.
Her legs nearly gave out from under her at the name written at the bottom of the page, a shaky hand seeking out her old desk chair and guiding herself into it as she kept the letter held out in front of her. Her eyes flitted over the page, over and over. An apology and a declaration all at once, three words burning into her eyes. She couldnât really picture him saying it - he never got the chance. Everything fell apart and then⌠then he died. She moved on, she married, but⌠it struck her dumb all the same as her thumb traced reverently over his name at the bottom of the letter. âMaxâŚâ