#slb1

"Surprise, baby!" Melissa laughed once Isidoro walked inside, knowing it was pointless to keep pretending it was just a normal night given the candles marking a clear path from the door to the dining table. There were more of them on the table proper, casting a warm and inviting glow over the meal she had evidently prepared for most of the afternoon - from ceviche to empanadas, the woman had really camped at the kitchen for hours, following a bunch of different tutorials.

"I thought I should be cliché for our first anniversary. Homemade cooking, candles and some special lingerie?" Melissa was, in fact, dressed in a special set bought for the evening - dark red pair of lacy underwear and garters, covered by a see-through robe with long sleeves that did nothing to hide her body (perhaps created only a fire hazard if she twirled too close to the candles). Make-up and hair had been done, too - the thing that one would not regularly see on her if not for the unique job they both shared (at least it had been done for Isidoro's eyes only this time).

"Promise you won't get made if I butchered the dishes? The empanadas were much trickier to get right than I expected."

The smell of home cooking was more than apparent the moment Isidoro opened the door, and had he not been so distracted by the candles lining the floor, he'd have commented on how wonderful their home was. The candles also brought a warmth to his smile, to which he also would have commented on had he not looked at the woman who owned his heart before the words had a shot at coming out.

No matter how often he might get to see or touch her, Melissa's body was something to behold each and every time. Just as quickly as he laid eyes on her in her anniversary outfit did any cohesive thought evade him. The hand holding onto the stems of the bouquet and bag containing a custom bracelet and chocolates for her- all of which felt utterly foolish at this point- curled its fingers a skosh more tightly and the only coherent words that fell from his lips were, "My god, you're so fucking beautiful. I'm the luckiest man alive," in his native tongue.

And Isidoro was more than aware of how true that was.

Every day Isidoro wondered how he had managed to get a woman like Melissa to fall in love with him. It was a mystery he never seemed to solve, but one that he was grateful for, nonetheless.

As she continued to speak, he managed to become more man than impulsive animal once again, and he beamed fondly as he finally closed the distance between them. He set the bottle in his other hand down before sliding it around Mel's hip to her lower back, pulling her in gently to place a slow, languid kiss to her lips. It took every shred of willpower to keep from deepening the kiss too much, but he loved her and the effort she put into dinner. He could never be so cruel as to derail such a lovely gesture.

Clearing his throat, Isidoro finally reluctantly pulled his hand from her to raise the bottle he'd previous set down. "I've got wine. Carménère, just like we shared on our first date."

With a sudden, slight jolt, he also offered the bouquet and gift bag to her as well.

Mark freezes initially as he feels his mouth get cut off midsentence about the dinner he'd prepared when Mel had arrived to his home for their movie night. Certainly he'd recognized his own feelings brewing in his chest, but he hadn't realized the feelings were reciprocated in the slighted. Mark was happy to just accept a platonic dynamic with the woman, grateful to have her company in any capacity.

But then feeling her lips on his own was a shocking but welcomed surprise.

After the initial astonishment dwindled, he raised his hand to cup the side of her face as he begins to reciprocate the tender brushing of their lips.

It's soft and sweet and when it ends, there's a dreamy smile on his lips as he meets Mel's gaze once more.

Fiyero's not so much of an egomaniac that he doesn't realize he should be at least a bit ashamed of what he's doing. He's perfectly aware that it's a rather questionable action. However, he is shallow enough to go on with it anyway, if only to uphold his reputation as a scoundrel.

At least, that's the story he's telling himself.

And, truthfully, it's all he needs to tell himself as he leans in perhaps a tad too closely to look upon the result of a properly casted spell to create a foggy cover over the table. While Fiyero may not apply himself in school as much as he ought to, these types of spells were ones he's gotten down to a science in his teens- a foggy cover made it quite easy to sneak out of his quarters, after all. The lesson, however, gives him enough of an excuse to linger closely to Melissa. A little accidental brush of the hand or shoulder here, a little step closer there, and soon enough he'll be able to work his charm on her.

Finney sniffled and quickly wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand in a pathetic attempt to pretend that he hadn't just cried himself awake from the most recent nightmare ruining his sleep.

It was strange, being haunted by so many ghosts, and yet the only being that managed to truly comfort him was the one that had, at least at one point, haunted him the most.

"I know," he finally managed to mutter, albeit all too quietly.

So desperately he wanted to be brave and strong just like he always hoped he'd be, but everything about Finney gave away that he wasn't. His voice was far from firm. His knees were pulled up to his chest with his arms wrapped tightly around them. No matter how hard he tried to stop them, the tears continued to streak his cheeks.