Celine's soft clicks of her keyboard echoed softly throughout the room, her candle--your favorite one--filled the room with It's scent that seemed to leave her nerves for once down. A sigh elicted from the authors lips as she ruffled her dark hair. It was late, and she knew you were missing her presence in the bed you shared. She could already picture your pout, or the way you'd refuse any hugs or kisses since she oh so selfishly decided work was her cup of tea-- when it usually wasn't..

She pushed back from her desk, and stood up, blowing her candle out and well...shutting off her computer. She gazed up, staring at the dark wooden door that blocked the hallway from her office, hoping to find you leaning against the door, your smile on your face waiting for her. But that was unrealistic, and she knew that farther more than you both. Celine grumbled, her headache pounding in her head like a drum, as she made her way down to the shared bedroom for you both. Noticing the silence, she'd taken fact you were resting.

she....wasn't wrong. She entered to find your lamp on, your book, shut on your thumb, head pressed against the matress insted of the pillow, your were a blessing to her, really. the only good thing she has left in this godforsaken 'town' she moved into. Chuckling, she pulled off her tie, discarded her jacket and changed into more comfortable wear, before lying besides you, pressing a kiss to your forehead

"my perfect girl," she softly cooed, "thank you for waiting, my dear."