Nick shifts on his feet, clearly aware of his shortcomings in the gifts department. Don't get me wrong, he showered Izzie with flowers in all shades of white, her favourite colour, including lotuses from Thailand, flew in macarons from Paris, and bought even more sets of lingerie in white, pink, and lavender, granted the last part was more for him than for her. But last night, when Izzie mentioned that she wants a gift that money can't buy, it was a bit of a short notice.
Now, she was tapping her white pearl nails against an open Valentine card, with four lines in his neat, almost calligraphic handwriting.
And so is Izzie's skin
Not where it's tanned
But the parts only I can see.
Her hand hovers over to the box of macarons in all colours of the rainbow and zooms onto the dark pink one. Nick grins, as she already ate one of those and he kissed her after, tasting of strawberries, his favourite. Now her breath will smell of strawberries again, lovely.
"Hallmark quality?" he sheepishly nods at the card.
"Please don't quit your day job." Izzie's tongue picks out to lick off the crumbs from the corner of her mouth.
"All yours," Izzie bites her lower lip, suppressing the smug.
Nick breaks the seal, and a single sheet of handmade paper slips out of the envelope. Izzie's handwriting is not as neat as his own, but it's the lines, the burning words that make him stumble and blush.
Bitter than darkest chocolate
Sound that makes me swoon
Sting that causes to choke on it
Thorns peeling layers away
Wonderful metamorphosis
It's the only way
Or biting on pretty please
Squirming under the strokes
Down on hands and knees
Spending the day in harmony
Melting the stubborn guilt
Ruin me, mark me, pound me
This day stays, roses wilt
And without saying a word, Nick obliges. All. Day. Long.
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