Every Breath You Take [RDJ Fanfic] - COMPLETED

Eighty

Sometime after dinner and some wine and chatter in the living room, Devin and my mother disappear to bed.  The electric fire is lit in the darkness, providing heat, and the lights from the decorations give a warm, soft light that I love.  This is the kind of holiday feeling I adore.  The kind of comfort that makes me want to cozy up and relax.  It nearly gives me chills, especially because throughout our evening talk, I've been sitting on Robert's lap, sideways, with a wine glass in one hand and the book in my lap.

The book was passed around again after desert.  My mom can't believe it.  She seems okay, despite the memories she has of my dad leaving.  Maybe it's because I'm so happy, I don't know.  Devin's proud of herself, and she's off of her phone for once as they talk about stories of him when I was a baby that I don't really remember.  All I remember are flashes of being tucked in at night, and a big bouncy ball we played with in the kitchen on a few occasions.  No clue why those things stand out, but that's what I have left.

But I'm not focused on the talk, much.  I'm focused on how Robert's smiling through each one, completely focused on them as his hands subconsciously secure me on his lap, one on my lower back and the other on my thigh, rubbing circles into the muscle I'm gaining there.  I'm leaning against his shoulder, listening to his heart beat, soft and steady, and every now and then, his torso shakes with laughter.  He's warm, and the sweater he has on with the hood over his shoulders is like a puffy blanket, even just under me.  And lord...do I love listening to him talk when he asks them questions.  

But when they retire, it's quiet, and once we're alone, his arms wrap around my waist, holding me close to him as I settle into his body.  After a few moments, a hand lazily travels to my hair, stroking slow, soft brushes through it in a calming manner.

"What's on your mind?" he asks, his deep voice low in my ear.

I sigh, repositioning against his chest to snuggle closer. "You."

He huffs a small laugh and kisses my head, taking a deep breath. "Great minds think alike."

I can't help but roll my eyes at his cockiness, despite being used to it by now. "You seemed pretty buddy buddy with my mom today," I comment instead.

"We're both so busy, we don't normally have time to see family...I just wanted to keep up the good impressions," he tells me honestly. "Was it too over the top?"

I shake my head slightly. "No, you were perfect. As always."

"And you wonder where I get the ego from," he teases.

"If anyone's allowed to boost it, it's me," I remind him, taking one of his hands and kissing the knuckles delicately.

He watches, eyes bright, but doesn't make a joke this time. "So on a scale of one to 'oh my God Robert', how was Christmas this year?"

"You're ridiculous," I giggle.

But I'm happy.  And I lean forward to set the wine glass down on the center table, then I open the cover of the book in my lap, looking at that inscription again, and quietly flip through the other pages, remembering each and every photo.  The one of the cat sledding with the kids, the one of it hiding in a tree and sleeping on the boy by the fireplace...   It's like I'm five again and just reading this for the first time.

"It was perfect," I admit, smiling a genuine smile down at the pages.  "I don't know how you did it, but everything is perfect..."

He waits a moment, hesitating, before asking, "Rach, what exactly happened to your dad?"

I frown, sighing. I've told him before that he isn't around, but didn't really ever tell him about the rest. It's something I just don't think about often, honestly, and the bad details of it didn't actually come up tonight, either.