Love Through Your Lens (Completed)

Chapter Seventeen: Epilogue

Two Months Later

- - -

I woke up to the scent of fresh coffee, bacon, and eggs. Well this was déjà vu.

I cracked one eye open and glanced at the alarm clock on the nightstand at the other side of the bed. Which was noticeably empty.

6:30 AM. I had class in an hour and a half.

I grumbled, cuddling closer to the empty side of his bed, inhaling his scent in complete bliss.

"Good morning, beautiful."

I rolled over towards his voice, finding him walking in with a steaming cup of coffee. I sat up and stretched, then reached out for the mug.

"Thank you, handsome."

He sat down on the bed next to me as I took the first few cautious sips.

"So I know I have an early day, but I didn't know you did too?" I cradled the mug in my hands, enjoying the warmth between them.

I had been staying over at Chris's apartment intermittently for the past few months. To be honest, his place was closer to my school. And we were still making up for lost time. It felt like every other day, we went on a date or just sat at home, discovering something new about one another.

"I don't," he admitted with a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. "I just like seeing you off." He stood up, lingering at the doorway before looking back at me. "Let me bring you that breakfast."

"I'm so spoiled," I joked, before taking another sip of my coffee as he left.

I did feel spoiled. My new writing program felt like a perfect fit. Chris and I were working out the kinks - and the kinky - between us.

I was happy. Really, truly happy.

I was broken out of my daydreaming by Chris's return, with a plate of hot breakfast and a small cardboard box wrapped in twine. He placed both at my lap.

"What is this?" I arched an eyebrow at the small box.

Oh, God - please don't be anything fancy. I didn't have the faintest clue what kind of gift to get him in return.

Chris wasn't much for fancy items. He lived quite the minimalist lifestyle.

"You can open it and find out." He came over to the other side of the bed, laying up against the headboard next to me.

"Ok..." I breathed out slowly, delicately picking up the box. I unraveled the tweed and lifted the cover, relieved there wasn't a bracelet or a necklace inside. "What does this open?"

I lifted out the fresh, shiny key, studying it intently.

"Here." He gestured around us with a smile. "Whenever you want to be here." He nudged me with his shoulder.

I furrowed my brows, my slow morning brain still working to connect the dots. "But I'm able to get in whenever I want so far?"

He took his hand in mine, mock hurt on his face. "I know, I know. Gosh, this was way more romantic in my head..." He shook his head in exasperation and I laughed.

"I'm sorry to ruin it..." I apologized and leaned my head against his shoulder.

"No, no. Let me be more clear." He took a deep breath before continuing. "Will you move in with me?"

My eyes widened and I held my breath at his offer. Sure, it was fast. But it felt right.

"I know it's soon, but it's really close to your school and I'd-"

I cut off his nervous rambling by sitting up and silencing him with a kiss. "Of course, roomie."

He sighed in relief, looking down at me with a childlike joy. "Yeah?"

I nodded, taking a few bites of the bacon on my plate. "Yeah," I mumbled with my mouth full, then patted him on the leg. "It feels right."

"It does."

We sat in content silence, me eating my breakfast and him watching me through his artist's gaze. It never ceased to thrill me when he looked at me like that.

After I finished my breakfast, he took my plate and mug, and I got up to get ready for the day.

I shed my clothes and winked at him before stepping towards the bathroom to hop in the shower. "Feel free to join me."

"Oh, I will," he vowed with a mischievous wink.

- - -

I was relieved I made it in time for my first class. After Chris gave me that key, I almost didn't want to...

But I did, and he helped push me out the door. I needed to keep working on chasing my dreams.

I sat down in my usual spot, second row from the front, all the way to the left, right next to the window. I unloaded my backpack, setting out my laptop, a notebook, and pen on my desk.

My professor sauntered in just a few minutes after I had everything placed exactly where I wanted it. The pre-class chatter dispersed promptly as he cleared his throat.

"Ok, class. It's time." A few of my classmates giggled at his theatrical baritone declaration.

"As you all know, we've been skimming the basics of screenwriting. And you may be asking yourself, 'Why is this crazy man making us write a screenplay already?'"

He paused in the middle of his monologue, taking a seat on the edge of his desk. "To that I say, you've been collecting fodder for screenwriting all along. So let's learn by doing."

I nodded, tapping my pen on my notebook. I'd thought long and hard about what I was going to write about. And I hoped I could do it justice.

"Remember - pick something you are passionate about, and really develop your characters and their voice. I expect one scene to be turned in by the end of class."

He motioned to us to start writing and I opened a fresh document on my laptop.

My fingers flew over the keyboard, trying to keep pace with my memory. The crisp, fresh air of Banff, the pulse beating in my ears at the first sight of him.

Everything that went wrong. Everything that went right.

And all of the love I felt through his lens.