Title: La Vie en Rose
Author: Vesper (Regina)
Warnings: None.
Category: Romance.
Characters: Sabrina Fairchild/Linus Larrabee
Summary: Together, in Paris. 351 words.
Archival: If you wish to archive, please link to my website. Please keep all my headers intact.

Even before they are married, Paris is their honeymoon. They both know this--what else can it be? They are so wrapped up in each other, in their joy.

They walk hand in hand, and they don't care how they look. Everywhere, they walk, across the bridges, in and out of stores.

"You're the tourist," she teases him.

"And you're the native," he answers back, with that smile of his--a smile so self-conscious, so wry, she has to laugh and kiss it away, into something a little closer to happiness without worries.

They talk all the time.

Sometimes he asks her questions about her time here, questions he didn't get to ask before, questions she wasn't ready to answer before. She tells him about Louis, about the first, embarrassing, uncomfortable day, how she had cried in bed that first night.

They drift easily into silence. This day, she has a secret, so she smiles to herself, and slides her hand under the pillow, to pull a tiny Eiffel tower from under the pillow. She holds it up, letting the steel catch the light.

His laughter rumbles in his chest, and through her, and the joy that blooms in her warms her like stepping into a patch of midday sun.

"You remembered," he says.

"How could I forget? These were all I saw when I first came here."

"I don't know what I was thinking when you offered--"

"I pay my debts," she says, lifting her head to look at him, and her voice is full of bright gentle amusement.

"I know." He takes the paperweight from her, turning it, examining its angles. She settles closer to him, head on his chest, hooking a foot around one of his. His fingers drift with idle intent through her hair, smoothing, twisting, combing. "I always knew you were kind." The tone of his voice is almost absent, full of memories, tinged with regret.

"And so are you, Linus," she counters, voice soft. She closes her eyes, wraps herself tighter to him.

His fingers grow still in her hair. "My Sabrina fair," he whispers.


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