Love Languages

Three Memories

╔⏤⏤⏤⏤╝❀╚⏤⏤⏤⏤╗

The light coming in through the curtains woke Beatrice first. It was a bright morning, perfect for being lazy. Bertrand still slept, half hugging Beatrice, who was careful not to wake him as she got up.

Lemony was gone, he had left early in the morning. He was helping Jacques with something and would return later that day.

Beatrice went down to their main kitchen, in the mood for pancakes. Suddenly, a glimpse of white caught her eye on the table. Beatrice grinned, she knew exactly what it was.

"Lemony," she said aloud.

That was right. On the countertop were two pieces of neatly folded paper - one with Beatrice's name on it, and one with Bertrand's, both in the handwriting of their partner.

Beatrice unfolded the paper, in small writing was a letter for her. It made her heart rush before she even read it - as if Lemony was right beside her.

Abandoning her pancakes idea, she sat at the table and began to read the note.

After reading it and catching her breath, Beatrice scrambled to get a pen and write a note back to Lemony, for him to find once he'd arrived. The words came easily to Beatrice, it was only a matter of writing them down as quickly as they arrived.

As she was writing, Bertrand came downstairs and gave Beatrice a sleepy kiss on the cheek. "Are you in the mood for pancakes? I can make two batches."
"That would be wonderful, thank you," Beatrice said, returning his kiss and immediately getting back to writing her letter.

Bertrand noticed what Beatrice was doing and opened the paper marked with his name. He looked at it for just a moment, smiled, and put it in his pocket, going to work on the pancakes. "You're writing back already?"
"Yes," Beatrice said, looking up from her paper. "Won't you?"
"Ah, I just keep these with me and reread them, it makes me feel loved. It's too early for me to do much reading, anyway." Suddenly, he stopped mixing the pancakes and glanced down at his paper. "Lemony is incredible," he said, his voice faraway.

"He really is."

╚⏤⏤⏤⏤╗❀╔⏤⏤⏤⏤╝

.•° ✿ °•.

Lemony finished typing the last few words on one of his typewriters and headed downstairs. He remarked on how quiet the mansion seemed, but with Bertrand there, it was a comfortable kind of quiet.

Instantly, Lemony remarked on the delicious smell of soup cooking. He guessed it was nearly ready, judging by the aroma. Bertrand came out of the kitchen, hearing his partner. Wordlessly, Bertrand took Lemony's hands and led him to the dining room.

"Did you finish writing?"
"I just did. Your soup smells incredible, by the way."

"Thank you! I was just about to call you down, but you always have the remarkable talent of coming just when I want you most." Bertrand spoke as warmly as the chicken noodle soup he had made. Being in the same room with him made Lemony sleepy and relaxed, and the soup was even better than it smelled.

Bertrand sat across from him, looking at Lemony with the most loving expression he had ever seen. One that made him feel safe.

"You should cook with me tomorrow," he said.
"I definitely will. For breakfast?" Lemony remembered the last time he had cooked with just Bertrand. They had made up a game as they cooked - read the ingredients label in the most serious tone possible, and have the other person guess what he had meant. It hadn't resulted in the best meal, but they both had fun.

Bertrand shared a glance with Lemony - he was clearly thinking the same.

"Anytime."
They ate the rest of their meal in silence, and it was exactly what Lemony needed. A comfortable, together kind of quiet.

°•. ✿ .•°

┏━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┓

Bertrand sat next to Beatrice, watching as she did her hair. She separated two strands of hair from either side and held it back with one hand as she pinned it down.

There was a sort of closeness to it, he thought. Just being able to sit and be together. Beatrice was humming a song that they and Lemony had often made fun of as she braided a strand back in a complicated-looking way.

Bertrand joined in humming the song, and Beatrice smiled appreciatively.

She was so beautiful, too, Bertrand thought. Dark curly hair, and eyes Bertrand wanted to compare to something, but could never find the words.

If Beatrice noticed Bertrand admiring her, she didn't mention it. "Can you help me?"
"Of course," said Bertrand, coming closer to do. "What do you want me to do?"
"Can you hold these while I do the other parts?"

Bertrand did as asked, and Beatrice pressed her back against his chest as she worked. Bertrand wondered if she could feel how fast his heart was racing.

"I remember when you used to have long hair," she said, taking some from Bertrand and working with it more.

Bertrand laughed. "I was always asking you for help with it. It was impractical."
"I don't mind. I think you've learned a little since then, anyways." She put her head on Bertrand's shoulder. "Braid this back?"

Again he did so and smiled at his partner through the mirror once they finished. "You look incredible, are you going anywhere?"

Bertrand felt Beatrice collapse against him. He felt both content and flustered at the same time. It was an odd combination of emotions, but a good one.

"No," Beatrice said, and smiled as Bertrand kissed her forehead then closed her eyes. Before long, the two of them fell asleep right on the floor.

┗━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┛