Juniper and I outvote Ethan in choosingMoulin Rouge, which, as it happens, is in both of our top five films of all time.
“Actually, I think this might bemyDVD?” Juniper flips the box over in her hand then places it back on the table with our empty plates. “That little thief.” She shakes her head as the movie starts, and we settle down to watch.
“Sisters.” I groan. “Who’d have ‘em?”
Juniper chuckles beside me.
I stretch out, scanning the room around us as the movie starts.
The fire crackles and pops, bathing the room in a gorgeous golden warmth I can’t get enough of. There’s a second Christmas tree inside, but unlike its potted brother on the top deck out there, this one is dusted with artificial snow and is adorned only in large red and green baubles. Striking, yet classy. I can’t tell which I like more.
A thick garland of winter green wraps lazily around the wooden beams above, and fairy lights criss-cross the ceiling like stars.
I sigh, completely and utterly content. There’s only one thing which could make this an absolutely perfect cinematic experience …
“Wish we had some popcorn,” I say.
“Shall I go out and get some?” Juniper asks, and we both giggle as the snow lashes unabated at the window.
“On second thought, I think we’ll be all right.”
Juniper and I whisper excitedly to each other as the opening credits roll. Then Ethan shushes us, pointing at the screen like he’s our teacher and we’re two of his cheeky college students. This of course makes us giggle more, but we try our best to stay quiet … at least until the next song starts.
Much to Ethan’s dismay, Juniper and I sing along to every song, including my personal favourite—The Elephant Love Medley—where Juniper takes on the role ofChristianto mySatine. We dance around the room, taking turns, with her singing me snippets of love songs while I coyly turn her down again and again.
It’s fun. She’s fun. We’re kinda fun together …
Ethan huffs and sighs as we obscure the screen with our dancing and whirling until we both collapse, red-faced and beaming, back on the sofa again at the end of the song.
I straighten in my seat, the realisation hitting me suddenly like a snowstorm sent straight from blue skies. Turns out, I don’t need popcorn to enjoy a film to its fullest; I just need Juniper.
Chapter Four
Thenextday,I’mgroggy and disoriented as I realise with a queer smile that we never actually made it to the bedroom. Or, at least, I didn’t.
I peel my eyes open, and instead of waking beside my hulking lumberjack of a husband, his heavy snores making his hairy chest rise and fall next to me … I find a very different and very not hairy chest attached to someone who, right now, I can only describe as a real lifeSleeping Beauty.
Juniper rests her head peacefully on a cushion in my lap. After a whole night on the sofa, her fringe—or bangs, as she’d probably say—still somehow fall perfectly over her eyebrows as she sleeps. And with her wavy chestnut brown hair swept back from her face, she looks angelic.
I frown. Her fringe really is perfect. I tried cutting one exactly once in my adult life, and was only ever able to achieve such perfection with the aid of a heated curling iron – which also gaveme a wicked burn on my forehead. My fringe did cover it, but I was too scared to ever try again.
She shifts slightly in my lap, and her button nose twitches like a rabbit, making her septum ring wiggle in place.
Damn. She is so much cooler than I’ll ever be. I blink. Not that I care. Not that I fancy her or anything …
Of course Juniper had not intended on staying over last night, so I offered her my spare pyjamas after slipping out to grab my own. We settled in for movie number two, while Ethan lasted to the credits ofMoulin Rougethen opted to go to bed and “leave us to it.” But when I returned in my cosy but very unsexy and unromantic Christmas pjs—a matching button down shirt and lounge pants combo with little reindeers all over them—Juniper told me, “I usually just sleep in underwear and a top.” And she had stripped down to just that.
I ended up leaving my other extremely sexy and romantic two-piece set—this time with little candy canes on them—to one side, then promptly rejoined her on the sofa, where she kindly pulled the blanket over us both.
And it wasn’t weird.
Or sexy.
Or anything out of the ordinary at all …
Though I really should have brought sexier pyjamas. It is our honeymoon after all.
I run my fingers through Juniper’s hair. I stroke her hair once or twice more, absentmindedly, then—
