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[It's . . . funny. Suzie, for all her distractability and indecisiveness, is the cleverest of all of them. She knew first, before either of them, what she wanted and where the problems lay, and he can see her now, the way she looks at him and sees him just like that, like it's nothing, like he's laid bare for her, and maybe he is. Maybe he really is that transparent.]

[With someone else it might bother him. With her it just feels natural. She should see to the heart of him; it's part of why he loves her.]

[His thumb strokes the back of her neck, and he sighs, just this side of longing.]

My teeth are almost as stunning as you are.

Then I must be stunning. And you must really want to gobble me up.

[She runs her hand through his hair, brushing it back more for the sake of stealing the chance to feel the strands than out of any real assistance toward keeping it away from his face.]

You can. I want you to. So the price for that is...you have to put me back the way I was, after.

[The way she touches him edges on reverent. It means more from her than it would from someone who was seeking to take from him only, even though that was once all he'd allow himself. There's some kind of effortless push and pull here, so much that she wants from him but so much that she wants for him, too. Maybe the most stunning thing about her is her generosity.]

[Not that he isn't particularly thrilled by the way she's looking at him, too.]

. . . I don't think I can do you any kind of justice, Suzie. You're too perfect for me to recreate. But I can try.

[He leans in and brushes his nose against hers, kisses her light and teasing and fleeting, but he doesn't move much away. If he moves away, he'll lose touch with the sweet smell of her hair, and he doesn't feel like backing down from that particular indulgence right now.]

...You can.

[And then it's interrupted, albeit in the most pleasant of ways but still technically interrupted, by a kiss that she feels the irresistible urge to devote her full attention to — so she does, she drinks in the gentleness and feels it all the more significantly because of the way her focus leads her to absorb every least bit of nuance, and it makes her want to sigh her satisfaction, so she does.

She keeps brushing at his hair, following the curve of his head back and around toward the nape of his neck, halfway to petting him and always treating him as sweetly as she can.

But when she does find her voice again, when there's the space for it, she cradles the back of his head in her hands and finishes the thought with gentle adoration.]

You can, because you're perfect for me.

[Oh. That always takes him aback. Every time. The prospect of himself being perfect for anyone is strange, much less someone like Suzie, who he always thought of as deserving the best.]

[But she'd never lie to him, would she. Even the way she touches him is unflinchingly honest, not even the little kinds of lies that he passes back and forth with Joseph, no-I-don't-like-you-but-don't-ever-leave-me. She just loves him with everything she has until he feels like the center of the universe.]

[It's the best feeling there is.]

[She deserves everything - glamour and romance and spontaneity and devotion. And because she deserves all of these things, he's careful with her, his hand on the curve of her hip certain not to bunch up her dress, the fingers at her hairline delicate in an effort not to disturb what he knows must have taken time. He lifts her off the stage and into his arms with effortless grace and attention to ensuring that her heels don't scuff the edge.]

[When he holds her close and kisses her, it's devoted, but it's also greedy. Because she deserves someone to guard her jealously, to hold her up and let her worry if she needs to worry, unwind if she needs to unwind. She's strong, but that doesn't mean she doesn't need strength. So he kisses her with hunger, and he holds her like letting go of her would hurt, and it would, because she's a part of him he didn't know he was missing.]

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