I went to Rome with my family once. I remember visiting the arena, where ancient gladiators and lions were supposed to fight and kill each other. Our tour guide told us an interesting anecdote about how back then they would starve the lions for a week, then they would rub the smell of meat and female lions on the gladiators so that the lions would be more motivated.

I only saw the remains of the arena, but I imagined if I could look into the eyes of one of those hungry beasts, I would find what I saw in Sean's eyes that moment.

"Was it fun?" I asked. I felt flushed. My boyfriend could give me a fever just by staring at me, like one of the characters on X-Men.

"It was. Brought back a lot of memories. Including the part where Sandy's mean to me," he said and I laughed. I could absolutely imagine how that went.

I offered him the pizza again because I felt shy, which was ridiculous, but actually not that ridiculous because it was Sean before me. I hoped he got it that I really cared a lot for him by planning a juvenile date, and I thought he did.

"Pizza can wait," he said.

He leaned in and I closed my eyes. It tasted like a first kiss. Not his techniques, obviously, but how it made me feel.

Like no one else mattered before him.

I could taste the urgency on his lips, the resolution, and there was a hint of desperation behind his usually calm demeanor. He was almost aggressive. We made out until the pizza got cold, and it didn't stop there. To be honest I didn't really want him to stop. He was setting off an array of firecrackers everywhere he touched.

I was faintly aware that it would be a cascade down all the way if I hadn't pushed him off me weakly.

He let go of me immediately and jerked back. We must have realized at the same time that this was how I lost my virginity, on the backseat of a car, and the memory repulsed me.

"Baby, I'm so sorry," he started.

I sat up and straightened my skirt.

"That's so insensitive of me. I got carried away," he stammered.

"No, it's just...not like this."

He leaned back on the car seat and took a deep breath, pupils large, breathing erratic. He looked like he was in need of a cold shower.

"Can you call your parents and tell them you are not going home tonight?" I asked.

***

We drove back to my apartment separately. I went up to pack a small overnight bag, then I got in Sean's car next to him. He was still on the phone, and judging by the conversation, he was having a hard time persuading his parents to let him stay out.

Then he said four magic words, and like pressing four digits into a safe, it worked.

"Mom, but it's Flora," he made his plea softly.

The conversation ended soon after that, and I smiled in satisfaction as he hung up. "Your mom must like me very much."

"Yes, that too." He started the car. "But mostly it's because...she knew how I was when we broke up. I didn't tell her how I felt but I guess she knows me better than I thought."

I felt a pang of sadness hearing that, imagining Sean hurt and depressed. At the same time there was this undeniable sense of pride knowing that I held such an importance.

He smiled. "Anyway, we got an extension. I'm glad you're not tired of my company yet."

"Not even close." I gave him the direction and he swerved into the evening.

"Are we going to your parent's beach house?" he asked quietly.

"Yes."

After that we didn't say much. I was very nervous and my head was a mess with thoughts. I stared outside the window and watched the lamp posts flew by.

"Do you ever wonder what would happen if we had gone that night?" I asked suddenly. Maybe things would have turned out differently, but maybe it really wouldn't be that different after all. Maybe we would still get into another stupid fight and call it quits at the heat of the moment.

"Lots of times," Sean admitted.

We were silent for a while, then he said, "I should have tried harder. It was my mistake to let you go home being mad at me. I think I didn't make much effort to work out any issues between us, because I hate confrontations. I always thought you could self-heal because you're so cheery all the time."

I wasn't really cheery all the time. I just didn't want to infuriate him so I swallowed my anger and sulked in private.

"And after it happened I should've given you a chance to explain," he went on. "You deserved that. After everything you did for me, I just ran away. I put my pride before you, and I feel like I betrayed you."

"It's okay," I whispered. "It's in the past now." I turned my face to the night because I didn't want him to see me cry.

I was feeling uncharacteristically vulnerable. Sean knew me after all. He knew I felt wronged and that I needed to hear this, even though saying deep things from the heart wasn't what he was best at. I was mad that we had to break up but also relieved that we got a second chance to fix it, now that we had both matured somehow. Maybe we were meant to be apart for a while, because making up never felt so good.

Sean didn't say anything but I suspected he could sense my tears. He steered the wheel with his left hand and reached over to hold my hand with his right one.

"Baby, I'm sorry," he said again, the second time tonight, for completely different reasons. He held my hand all the way to the beach house, firmly, soothingly, making a silent statement.

I felt like a part of him had opened up to me, and for the first time in our relationship, I felt completely understood.

***

After we arrived, everything unfolded rapidly. It felt fated. Strictly speaking he had seen me naked before, but the atmosphere was utterly different compared to how playful we were a year ago. We were always giggling when fooling around. Sean may be a gentleman, but he made dirty jokes about job offers and going all the way every chance he got, and the first time I was about to take off my bra, he had stopped me with a smile.

"Wait. I want to try something."

He snaked his hand to my back, and with a flick of his wrist, he had managed to unhook my bra with one hand.

"Hmmm." He beamed as it fell away. "That was easier than I expected."

I had the sneaking suspicion he had lots of practice, but he claimed he learned it off YouTube. "Didn't you know? This is my one and only talent."

But on this fateful night, I was glad he didn't make any stupid jokes. He was in smoldering silence leading up to it, and he didn't break the spell by asking for my permission eight thousand times. At first he gazed at me like I was a model on the runway, like I was perfect and divine but he was not allowed to touch, then he started caressing me gently, paying attention to my reaction. He made it more about me than him, we didn't break eye contact, and he never stopped kissing me. I felt loved and cherished beyond belief.

I had imagined sex with Sean would be as fervent as in the movies, with buttons popping everywhere and shirts torn and my head slamming into the headboard, the bed would creak like a terminally-ill patient about to give out, and I would probably die and go to 0rgy heaven seven times...but on the contrary it was like slipping into a warm scented bath. It was slow, gentle, comforting, and never before had I felt so close to someone.

And it was perfect. The sound of his breaths picking up speed, the heat from his body, the smell of his skin, and the touch of his fingers rushed at my senses all at once. I was half wishing I'd saved myself for him but half glad that I had gotten the first time out of the way, because otherwise it wouldn't have been so amazing. Sean was like an improved version of a prescription drug: more powerful, longer-lasting with no side effects.

Well, one side effect. It was highly addictive. The only thing hotter than a sixteen-year-old Sean Foster last year was probably a seventeen-year-old one. He didn't look like Captain America, yet, because let's be realistic he was still a teenager, but underneath his clothes there was a beautifully toned body and the sexiest back dimples. I couldn't tear myself away from him.

We finished the rest of the icy pizza afterwards, then we did it again. The second time was even better than the first, because what can I say? My king was a physics genius. He knew about essential things like force, speed, friction, collision, and angles. That's all I can reveal for now.

I lay on his chest in complete postcoital bliss. We cuddled and his arms fitted nicely around my body like a Balmain leather jacket.

"That was so good," he purred.

"It was. Shouldn't you have a license for being that awesome?" I said.

He smiled and kissed the top of my head. "Admit it, you planned an incredible date just to lure me into bed."

"How did you find out about that?" I widened my eyes in feigned fright. "Have you been reading my diary?"

"I bet it's worth it, though." He squinted at me playfully. "Every scheming plot you have in your pretty head."

"Definitely worth it."

He touched his forehead to mine and kissed me. His eyes were closed and a cute smile tugged at his lips. "You can just ask. I'm incredibly easy."

We kissed the night away with fragments of conversation in between, and I rambled on breathlessly about everything I had wanted to tell him, mostly my Godzilla-sized crush on him. He told me how much he had missed me and wanted me beside him. I didn't remember when I fell asleep.

***

I woke up first.

When I did I turned my head and saw that Sean was still sleeping. I ran my eyes over his face tenderly. When he was asleep he really looked quite angelic, and just watching him, next to me seeming all peaceful and contented, my heart swarmed with happiness.

I got up quietly and made two cups of espresso with our newly installed coffee maker, then I brought it over to the night stand. I thought if he could wake up to the smell of coffee it would be really nice. I wanted to run my fingers through his dark hair but was afraid of startling him. The King needed his weekend beauty sleep and caffeine to follow.

I quietly sipped my coffee next to him as I watched his face. At that moment my heart was bursting at the seams with love for him. I loved him. I loved him dearly. It was not just because he was absolutely beautiful to look at. I honestly believed everything about him was perfect, or at least imperfectly perfect.

His long lashes fluttered like a cicada waking up from a winter slumber, and he opened his eyes groggily. When they rested on my face, he gave me a really sexy, lazy smile. "Hey."

"Good morning, handsome," I said.

"Good morning. You're still here. Then yesterday was not a dream."

"You can't get rid of me that easily." I smiled and leaned over slightly to touch his face. He grabbed my hand and kissed my knuckles.

"I had the best day of my life, and I woke up next to you." He gazed at me almost dreamily. "And you made me coffee! Are you up for long?"

"No, I just had time to freshen up and make coffee. Check out if you like our new cappuccino machine."

"Okay, that smells so good." He rubbed his hands over his eyes and sat up, reaching over to pick up his cup. His eyes narrowed blissfully and I was amazed at how easy it was to please him.

I stared at him over the rim of my mug. I couldn't think of a better way to start a cold morning, coffee in hand and Sean lying beside me. "Did you sleep well?"

"Better than I have slept in a long time," he said. "I often wake up for no reason in the middle of the night, and now I'm afraid I won't be able to go back to my own bed."

It's a good thing that he didn't know how much our mattress cost. He wouldn't be able to relax on it ever again.

As soon as he finished his coffee, I snuggled up to him.

As Coco Chanel once said, "The best things in life are free. The second best things are very, very expensive." I had been lost chasing the second best things for so long that I had forgotten how wonderful the very best thing in my life was. He wrapped himself around me, and his embrace and the scent of him reminded me of all the pure and lovely things in life. He smelled like melted snow, spring sunshine, budding flowers, freshly-sharpened pencils, and clean linen.

I traced a line down his naked torso with my index finger, all the way to beneath his navel. "Are you ready for round three?"

***

I lay back in my pillow and sighed. "Why are you so good at everything you do?"

"Do you want me to sing to you?"

I laughed. "Look...there's something I need to tell you."

"You are not a virgin. I know."

I chuckled and hit him with a pillow.

He smiled and held up his hands. "Okay. Sorry. What?"

I took a deep breath and I pretended to be grave and serious. "I know we're supposed to have no more secrets left, but..." I sighed. "There's one last thing I have been keeping from you."

He gazed back at me, getting more apprehensive by the second.

"And I really don't know how you'd feel about it, so I need you to promise me that you're not going to freak out."

He ran his fingers through his hair briefly and exhaled. "I'll try."

"Okay, here goes...wait, never mind. I'm scared of your reaction."

"Jesus, Flora. Just tell me."

"I know this is uncool, and probably too soon, but I really want you to know..." I paused a few long seconds for effect. "I love you."

It was his turn to be silent. After a few long seconds, he blinked and his body reclined, creating distance between us. There was no joy on his face. "I wish you hadn't said that," he said finally.

I felt the color draining from my face. He really had a problem with responding properly to I love you. "You don't need to say it back or... or anything," I stuttered. "I just want you to know how-"

"I want to say it first. Why do you always have to initiate everything?" he cut me off, shaking his head in mock disapproval, before breaking into his gorgeous smile that always stopped my heart. "I love you too. I love you so much."

I laughed and hit him again with the pillow. "Why do you have to be so annoying?"

He smiled. "What, you can tease me, but I can't tease you back?" He tackled me and we rolled on the bed giggling like the lovesick teenagers we were. "I love you, Flora. You make me deliriously happy."

I planted kisses along his jawline and he kissed me back on my neck. After we finally got a hold of ourselves, I sat up and asked, "When did you realize that? When did you start loving me?"

He took a while contemplating the question, then he said, "I don't know. But looking back, everyday since you first confronted me at that party a year ago...I can't remember ever not loving you."

His blue eyes were calm and sincere, and I knew Sean would never lie to me. I rolled back into his arms and smiled until my face hurt.

***