happy. [tag; dorian]

"We'll both get matching jumpers. And matching hats. And take lots of matchy matchy pictures." He grinned at her, at the ridiculousness of the idea, and at his complete eagerness to do exactly what he said if only just to be with her. It was amazing how much of a fool he was willing to make of himself just to see her smile. Was that normal? Dori wasn't sure.

Never? "We'll go," he told her freely. "We'll be complete tourists and do everything that tourists do. Leaning tower of Pisa, Pompeii, the Colosseum, Venice, Milan." He heard an edge of her voice, but couldn't quite decipher what it meant. The feeling to reassure her made him go on even more. "And then I'll show you all the little, lovely places I found. Places that are quiet and romantic and private." Maybe the edge had been that she wanted to pick the place? He quickly backpedaled. Dori was still so unsure of himself with her at times that he worked at not ruining what they had. Felt like he would always have to work at not ruining it. "Or you could pick the places. You can plan the whole trip. Totally your decision. I'll follow you anywhere."

Her lips on his chest sent a frisson of warmth through him and he loved her a little more in that moment than before. And he also thought that they would be needing some more chocolate fudge brownie ice cream if she kept that up. His fingertips brushed her hair behind her ear as he gazed at her, his blue eyes wide with adoration. Her fingers tracing light circles on his skin made his mind skip unfocused and he struggled to think in coherent thoughts, to form a reply to what she was saying. What was she saying? He settled on a nice, agreeing "mmmhmmm" because he had really been too distracted by her lips and her eyes and her fingers to say anything else.

There was something there between them, in the way she faltered for words, in the way he had assumed without asking that she would go with him. Dorian was still realizing that their love, though very real, was also still in the progress of finding its way of working in them together. Even now, there was something between them that Dorian couldn't quite bridge. So instead of addressing it head on, Dorian paused and then continued on with a tentative smile. "You didn't have to do that," he said about her new dress. "But I can't wait to see it." Her genuine expression of pride in him made him blush and avoid her eyes, but he squeezed her closer as he couldn't exactly find the words to tell her how happy that made him. To think that someone, Eloise of all people, would be proud to be with him? Unthinkable. He didn't deserve that kind of devotion. He wanted to earn it though. For her.

"Yes!" he said without hesitation. A blanket fort? How could anyone say no. Dori began to mentally put together a list of everything one needed to make the perfect fort. The artist found he was happy knowing that he could still act like the nine-year-old he felt like and she would happily join him in that immaturity. "Where?" he asked, not bothering to keep the giddy, kiddish anticipation out of his voice. "Do you have snacks?"

"That's maybe ok then..." Dori whispered after a few long moments of thinking about it. At least she didn't spend any more on him. He wanted to see what it was, but didn't at the same time. He didn't know if he wanted to know how much he owed her. How much unbalanced their little relationship was going to be. So in true Dorian fashion, he avoided it. He still didn't want to let her go to find whatever it was she wanted to give him. Yep, that was his excuse.

"My exhibition?" he repeated nervously. His hands squeezed her, probably more forcefully than he realized, but the tension and stress of his exhibition showed itself in little ways like that. "Well... it's all based on the idea that feelings aren't tangible. Aren't something you can hold in your hands or see with your eyes. So when I painted, I blindfolded myself. So I could paint feelings without the benefit of sight." He shrugged as he trailed off lamely, flicking his eyes to her and then away again, unsure that his idea was even worthy of an exhibition. Why did he think this was a good idea again?

Matchy matchy pictures. Eloise laughed, wrinkling her nose and pressing her face into her pillow to hide her blush. She was happy. So happy. In fact, she was positively radiating it. She was tired and maybe a little bit hungry but she was content and warm. "I want one with bobbles on," she said, referring to the hat. "Will you buy me a stuffed llama?" The blonde asked softly, running her finger tips up and down the arm he had around her waist.

Eloise was the type of girl to keep those sorts of things. Cuddly toys, ticket stubs, sea shells, anything. She wasn't planning on telling Dori that she had a small box of his things she'd accidentally collected through their school years. An old picture of them in her back yard on the tyre swing. A dried flower he'd given her at Beauxbatons. One of his old shirts she'd borrowed when she'd spent a weekend at his family's home and she'd forgotten her pyjamas.

She smiled into her pillow as he listed the places. "Can we climb Vesuvius?" She asked eagerly. Had she been logical, she might have thought that it was a bit too early to be making so many grand plans but honestly? It felt right. It didn't feel strange at all. "I heard there was this little path and you're only allowed to go on it two-by-two and you can't jump up and down because there's lava underneath it that's still flowing," she gushed. "Isn't that awesome?"

"I want to do whatever you want to do," Eloise said firmly, trying to dispel any doubt that Dorian might have. "I like being a tourist," she said lightly. "And there's really no one else I'd rather experience everything with." What she'd said was one hundred percent true. "Besides," she said softly. "Who else is going to take my picture outside Paro Taktsang?" She asked, playfully. The monastery was right on the edge of tall, perilous cliff. She'd be gripping his hand the entire time.

When he said he'd follow her anywhere, a thrill of excitement shot up her spine. Dori gave her the warm fuzzies. "Me too," Eloise whispered. It was perfectly true; she really would follow him anywhere. "Unless it's anywhere with spiders," she said abruptly. "In which case, you're on you're own, Delerue."

His warmth was making her sleepy. Eloise could listen to his voice all day long. It was like honey, sweet and slow and utterly delicious. Would he mind just chatting to her for a while? Would he read her a story? Hell, he could quote her recent utility bill and she'd still happy sigh at him.

She ignored the comment about her dress. He was right, she didn't have to but she wanted to. Dorian was always so funny with money. He was a perfect gentleman, traditional in the ways he thought he should have to pay for everything. While flattering, it was entirely unnecessary. Thankfully, Eloise did not have champagne tastes. Neither of them had very much money but she wasn't materialistic in the slightest.

"Yay!" Eloise squeaked about the blanket fort. Where? "Living room?" The blonde offered. There might be some more space. "Of course I have snacks," she chuckled. "There are still some croissants from this morning," she began with a blush, pressing her hand to her lips as she remembered their little tryst. Her lips still tingled as she remembered the way his had moved over hers. "And I can make some sandwiches, too." Eloise wiggled a little and made move to get off the bed and begin building the fort but laughed out loud  as he held her tight and kept her still on the mattress.

As Dorian squeezed her a bit too tightly, Eloise slid her hand lower to very carefully prise his hand off her waist so she could slid her fingers into his hand, lacing their fingers together so they were still happily spooning.

Blindfolded himself? Eloise blinked, faintly alarmed but listened intently all the same. With a little bit of effort and manoeuvring, she managed to wiggle and roll over so she was facing him again, his arm still around her waist so she could look at him. Properly look at him. Her big green eyes watched him, surveying his face and feeling a bit dismayed that he didn't seem to believe in himself so much. That was okay, though. She believed enough for both of them.

She offered him a smile, slow and genuine. "That sounds incredible," Eloise said softly with a nod, some of her hair slipping forward and over her shoulder to curl against her collarbones. Eloise has a vision him blindfolded, painting away and she came up behind him, wrapped her arms around him in a backwards hug and scared him. Yeah. That'd be a lovely way to spend a Saturday afternoon.

"You're so smart," she cooed gently, sliding closer to him across the mattress so that she was leaning over him a little bit. "I'm so proud of you, you know," she stated. It meant a lot to him that he understood just how much. The idea was awesome and she knew the execution would be even better.

"Do you know how sexy you are when you talk about art?" Eloise asked with a girly blush and a coy smile. Personally, she wasn't as articulate and gorgeous with words as he was. He was spectacular. She leant in and over him, pressing him carefully back against the mattress. With one hand, she grabbed the edge of her duvet and began to hoist it up. "Maybe we can build a fort in here," she whispered against his lips before leaning in and kissing him, tugging the covers over both of their heads. Besides, they still had half a tub of chocolate fudge brownie ice cream to get through.

"'Course," he said with a chuckle as he nuzzled against her check, the stubble on his cheeks scratching against her skin softly. "I'll buy you three stuffed llamas. And we'll ride a llama. And get a tshirt that says 'I'm best friends with a llama.. named Larry.'" He laughed low at his own joke. Dorian wasn't sure what was funnier: the image of Eloise riding a llama or him actually being able to buy anything. Although... that latter part wasn't that funny when he really thought about it. Better not to think about it!

He nodded to her against his pillow, his fingers tangling with hers. He wanted to do anything she wanted to do, but as she continued to explain about Vesuvius, Dori was feeling distinctively ill. He'd never been the biggest fan of heights and the thought of climbing a mountain, clinging to a small path, with the fear of being boiled by lava at any moment. Yeah, it sounded awesome. He tried to nod along with her and attempted to give her a excited smile, but it came out more feeble than genuine. He hadn't hear of Paro Taktsang, but he liked the idea of taking her picture. He could already imagine the collection of photographs they would have at the end of that trip. It would fill albums and albums. A whole wall.

"Pshhhhhh," making the sound between lips curved up in a smile and amused eyes. "If there are spiders, you're on your own." He laughed again at his own joke and wondered if there were a man anywhere in the world that had ever been happier than he was now. He didn't think it was possible.

The way her hand wormed its way into his made him glance down at the contact and as an afterthought, he realized he might have squeezed her too hard. He looked at her with an apology in his eyes and smiled faintly. Her support of her was appreciated, but somewhere deep down, doubted. What made him worthy of such belief from her? Nothing, he thought. Nothing. He squirmed under her confession, unsure of how to handle it. He knew it wasn't polite to deny it and argue, but he also couldn't accept it when he didn't agree. Could he? So instead of giving her a real answer he just brought his lips to hers, gently, softly. His mouth moved over hers in the sweetest way and even though they had been busy earlier, he was thinking about getting her under him again. And again.

Her coy smile gave him all the encouragement he needed. As she brought the cover up over their heads, he smiled into her kiss and slide his arms around her back, pressing her closer to him. The fort was a cute idea, but this Eloise was sexy and right now, he couldn't pick anything else other than this girl above him just like that.