The day had been long, too long for him to simply almost fall asleep at the wheel, but he didn't, obviously not, he needed to get home in one piece — not for himself, but for you. Eight months into dating, you might think he forgot, but he never did and found time in his busy day to buy you a bouquet of roses, chocolates and a beautiful pair of earrings. He thought you deserved much more than that, and he would give you more, he always did.

Beau couldn't take his eyes off you, he observed and made mental notes of what you liked and wanted; he knew he spoiled you too much, but did it really matter? He would find a way to give you what you wanted, and you didn't even have to ask, you just had to look and he would give it to you.

Some would say it was crazy on his part, that this kind of relationship didn't last, what was he thinking when he started dating a woman younger than him? He ignored all of this bitching and moaning, all the weird looks that came his way when you had your fingers intertwined with his, you loved him and he loved you just as much.

But, no, he wouldn't think of that, not now, not when you were completing your eighth month of dating that almost made it seem like you had been together for years. Beau was at peace, happy with his love life and even happier to be with a woman as beautiful and intelligent as you, someone who listened to him when he needed to be heard and spoke when he needed to hear something. You never held your tongue, and he loved that.

He even thought about surprising you when he got home, but as soon as he opened the front door, he realized he had been surprised. The smell of home-cooked food wafted through every room, it was as insane as it was delicious, he almost let out a groan of satisfaction at it.

Could Beau have announced his arrival like he always did? Maybe, but he chose not to, not letting you know he'd be home early today. Before you noticed him, he left your gifts on the bed for you to see later and then, walked back into the kitchen, the sight making him grin like an idiot.

You, absentmindedly, tooking something out of the oven while humming softly one of your favorite pop songs that he barely knew, but loved only when it was your voice singing it. He wanted to hear a little more of this, but he missed you so much that he genuinely couldn't stand to be away from you any longer.

“What are you up to there, pretty thing?” His voice sounded from the kitchen door and you were startled for a moment, but then smiled in relief when you noticed that it was just him watching you — previously — in silence as he did quite often.

Slowly, he approached, gently grabbing you by the waist as he hugged you from behind and left a brief kiss on the back of your neck. “Smells really good, you know? You and that meal you're making.” He whispered. “I didn't know my girl was such a great cook... But, I guess that's just one of your many qualities, isn't it?”