The TV blared, igniting the room in a hypnotic, metallic glow. Roshan Ahmadi, the teenier resident of his shared flat, lay curled up on the couch with his arms and legs tucked into a baggy gray sweatshirt. He would have been mistaken for a pillow if not for the pouf of black curls atop his head. Of course, the sweatshirt belonged to his boyfriend, who was out right now. Tremaine tended to work late hours, straying long into the night. Roshan had begun to miss the familiar aroma of mint and cinnamon that seemingly followed Tremaine Blackbourne, and thus had taken this from his dearest blackberry's side of the room.

       That was why Roshan nearly jumped out of his skin when the door latch clicked open. He was relieved - and confused - when his boyfriend, tall and sleek and handsome, walked through the door and dropped his keys in the wicker basket next to him.

        Wiping sleep away from his eyes, Roshan turned to take in the beautiful sight of his love. "'Maine?" he croaked sleepily. "You're home early." His eyes drifted to the clock on the wall - 8:45pm. Tremaine usually returned in the wee hours of the morning.

      "Well, let's see," Tremaine purred, abandoning his boots at the door and approaching the couch. He kept an arm behind his back. "There were no customers - I mean, even less than there usually are - so it was quiet. And that's when I remembered that I have a dashing prince at home awaiting my arrival." He tapped Roshan's nose lightly, drawing a giggle out of the sleepier, younger flatmate. "And since there was nothing to do there, I thought I'd come home. Oh, and I brought you these," he said, straightening the arm that had been held behind his back to reveal a case of two delectable, golden-brown chocolate croissants. "One for my love, one for me."

     Roshan smiled, eyes still misty from his halfway state of slumber. "You dork. You didn't have to do that."

      Tremaine met his eyes with that charming smirk that had roped Roshan in for six years now. "But I did." He cupped Roshan's cheek with his free hand, drawing him closer and pressing his lips to his boyfriend's own with that sweet tenderness which he had perfected.

      "So tell me," Tremaine continued, claiming the spot on the couch next to Roshan. "Did I miss anything exciting?"

      Roshan giggled. "Exciting? Without you? I don't think so," he said, subconsciously cuddling closer into Tremaine's warm presence.

      "Mm. Fair point," Tremaine replied with a small nod. "Just making sure I've still got you under my spell."

      Roshan's grin turned from teasing to sweet. "You'll always have me enchanted, mon etoile," he said, gazing up into those silvery eyes as if they mapped out the night sky.

     Physically, they were quite the opposite from one another. Roshan was adorably short, with skin the color of mocha. Tremaine, on the other hand, was slim and sharp-featured, his pale skin and hair practically reflecting the light wherever he went.

      Spiritually, however, there were no two souls that had a stronger bond. They were magnets, bound together for life. They knew everything about each other, and never failed to cheer the other up on the gloomiest of days. Tremaine was fascinated by the smart, sweet young man he'd found, and Roshan was equally enraptured by the charming, strong survivor he'd been assigned to room with. Roshan's every tic made Tremaine's heart skip a beat; the way his soft eyes flickered down to Tremaine's lips every so often when they were talking, the shy way he adjusted his glasses, the way he meticulously combed his hair every morning, making it pouffier in the process. And it was Roshan who'd made the first move, so Tremaine couldn't say no to such a treasure.

So here they were, living their happy life, surprising each other with flowers or pastries, making each other breakfast, dancing to slow music as the stars came out on Tremaine's nights off, spending time curled up together as they poured their heart out to each other. Exchanging sweet words and kisses to the forehead as they'd tell each other stories from their childhood or their Warcross days. It wasn't just your usual honeymoon phase. They were made for each other. They made every other couple redden with jealousy, although they were too caught up in their love for each other to notice.

But it was perfect.