I'll Do Right By You (Monica) [Finished]

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[atrb=background,http://i288.photobucket.com/albums/ll192/_Kamora_/denverbackground_zps92dc7670.png] This is what it must feel like to be irrevocably, uncontrollably, and head over heels in like with something. She couldn’t tell yet it the warmth that spread throughout her body like a wildfire was ignited by love or if it was just the simply irrational joy she got every time she saw the smile of the girl that spun fairytales in her dreams. Was there even a difference? Denver sucked in a breath as she thought about it for a moment. She wanted to take things slowly, because finally she had been able to protect Monica even if the need to protect had arose due to her failure to do so in the first place. It still had to count for something, right? Right. Denver told herself firmly. A goofy grin was plastered across her face as she picked her way across Fallen territory. After the past weeks or so she had been caring for the shorter blonde with vigor and a seriousness she didn’t know she even had the ability to use, but it had paid off. The poor girl was feeling much better and looked healthier than when Denver had first came across her in the train car. Things were looking up. “It gets worse before it gets better.” She mumbled to herself as she sought out a quick path that would reach her destination. And wow, things had gotten better. Her symptoms were almost completely gone except for the fact that when had headaches they were worse than before her medication and the night terrors still gripped her on rare occasions, but the blonde could put up with that. The scratches on her wrists where scarring over and the wound that was caused by guilt was scabbing, she had to be careful at night or she’d pick it off. When she got to the train car that held the one person in the world that she trusted with her life she hesitated. It was still hard to get her head around the fact that Monica had forgiven her, but she couldn’t change the girl’s nature nor did she want to at this point. She was suppose to have gotten a large amount of distance between them over the past week, but that plan had failed miserably. The moment Denver stared into sad puppy dog eyes she had been lost and didn’t plan on finding a map anytime soon. With another deep breath, she gathered the strength to open up the door and slip inside the car. Her smile immediately brightened when she saw the form of Monica sitting in one of the worn down chairs. “H-Hi.” Her eyes didn’t meet Monica’s as she nervously greeted her. Then Denver removed her hand where she had it behind her back. “I-I found this, and it, it well it reminded me of-of you.” She said impishly as she stuck out her hand that was holding a yellow flower. She bit her lip in fear that the other girl wouldn’t like her obvious display of affection. She should have known better at this point, but Denver constantly lived in a world of second guessing herself and fear that she would be rejected. This is what it must feel like to be irrevocably, uncontrollably, and head over heels in love with someone.

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[Monica Jones]

[atrb=width,500,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][bg=CBA0FF] To say that the past few weeks had been rough would be a horrible understatement. The sickness had gotten much worst before it became anywhere near better. The rashes on her arms had gradually formed into small but painful blisters and during that time it seemed like she could hardly ever keep anything down. But, with the gentle and patient care from Denver, she had managed to slowly but surely heal. At first, the shorter blonde had been terrified at the idea that the girl might have caught the disease as well and had done what she could to keep her from getting sick including trying to make sure she didn't get too close, but that had horribly failed as she refused to listen. In the end, the hamster shifter was grateful for both the company and the care she had received. But, it had amazed both her and others of the ring that Denver had not become infected herself. Or, that Monica hadn't died either. Most everyone, including herself, had thought she would have died from the painful disease, but something seemed to have kept the infection at bay. Whatever it was, no one was about to complain. Quietly sitting in one of the worn out seats of the train car, the girl lightly ran her fingers over some of the scars that had now formed on her arm. The blisters, after draining and scabbing, had left something of dips in her skin and while some managed to heal back smoothly, others left scars behind as a reminder of what she had been through. She still had a few scabs remaining on her arm, but she did not worry to much about them. They fell off when they were ready, and she did her best not to pick at them. It was hard to do, though, as they still had a tendency to itch from time to time. With that in mind, Monica was already beginning to pick lightly at one of the small scabs on her forearm, the dried wound covering itching and becoming a nuisance to her. She just wanted them to go away. While the symptoms of the disease were now gone, Monica still felt some of the affects, always feeling drowsy and a bit weak, but she could not complain harshly as she was so much better now compared to earlier that week. As her mind wander, she quickly found herself thinking of the kind short-haired blonde that had been the one to help her through it all. She had never thought she would grow so fond of someone especially in such a place as the Menagerie. But, whether by simply luck or the generosity of some god, she had been given the gift and honor of knowing Denver. The girl was everything she had ever dreamed of. She was kind and caring and simply perfect in her eyes. Just the thought of the other girl brought a sense of warmth to her and sent butterflies fluttering in her stomach. As she became lost in her daydreams, she almost didn't notice the pretty young woman that always walked in her dreams come up to the door. At the sound of it opening, her eyes quickly shot up, her heart pounding in her chest as her gaze fell on Denver. A bright smile slid onto her lips that simply grew as she saw the flower that she held in her hand. Standing up from her seat, Monica quietly walked up to her, her eyes shining with appreciation as she took the flower before looking up at Denver. "Oh, Duh-Denver. It's buh-beautiful," she spoke softly before gently hugging the girl. "Thuh-Thank you. I luh-love it."

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[atrb=background,http://i288.photobucket.com/albums/ll192/_Kamora_/denverbackground_zps92dc7670.png] Maybe her bad karma had finally run dry and she had done enough good in this life to turn it around or maybe it was just written in the stars that they were to end up together, but whatever it was she wouldn’t dream of questioning it. Coming from a life of constant neglect and abuse Denver tried to give as much as she could and take as little as possible, but she found herself not needing to take. This affection was giving to her willingly, and she couldn’t help but lay out in its warmth. She couldn’t remember a time when she was happy to come home, even if home was a run down train car in the middle of nowhere surrounded by dangers. Home is where the heart is, and her heart was currently resting under another’s rib cage. She didn’t even bother to ask the other girl to take good care of it, because she knew she would. Denver sighed contently, and for a moment everything was right in her world. She forgot about the fact she was locked in a dome full of twisted creatures that sought pain for amusement, and she forgot that she wasn’t suppose to find happiness here. Because the fact of the matter was that she had found happiness. She had found it in the form of a short light-haired girl, and Denver wasn’t complaining in the least bit. If anything she wondered if she was trapped in some sort of nightmare turned dream, but no matter how hard she pinched herself she was still here waking up to another person’s face. She felt like the first half of her life was an entirely different story in a different world that had nothing to do with the sequel except for the fact the main character was still her. She definitely liked this sequel much better even if it had more drastic hardships she had to face. It would be okay though as long as this newcomer in her life would hold her hand through them. She couldn’t help but feel warm at the thought, “Of course Monica will be there. She hasn’t left me so far.” Putting herself out there was a new concept that Denver still struggled with, but for some reason the younger girl made her feel safe for the first time in a long time. The warmth burned like Denver had swallowed the sun, and everything was brighter when she caught the smile on Monica’s lips. She couldn’t help herself when the other girl neared her with soft-spoken words, “Like you.” The words slipped out before she could stop them and blush spread out across her cheeks. Before Denver could backtrack, arms wrapped around her and she was pulled into an embrace. She couldn’t help but wrap her own arms around the girl’s waist and pull her in tighter as she buried her face into the crook of her neck. It felt nice to be so close to Monica and she didn’t dare pull away. “I’m glad you’re better.” She mumbled into her skin before pulling away from her neck and pressing her lips against Monica’s forehead.

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[Monica Jones]

[atrb=width,500,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][bg=CBA0FF] It seemed like so long since she had been able to find someone to be there for her. Since the day she had been taken from her family she had been left alone without anyone there for her. Even when she had settled herself amongst the ranks of the Fallen she remained virtually alone. No one there comforted her, no one supported her, not really. They all did it purely because that was to be expected of them as they were all a sort a 'family'. But now...now she had Denver. As she felt the arms of the woman wrap around her, pulling her closer, Monica felt an undeniable sense of security. Yes, the taller blonde may have made the mistake of leaving her alone with the virus, but she did not take it farther than a simple mistake. No, she could never stay mad at this girl. She needed her too much, she wanted her too much. If she hadn't forgiven her, then she was sure she would have lost her. As Denver's words followed her own, the hamster shifter felt her cheeks burn with a faint blush, not having expected that. But, she welcomed it regardless. Glancing up at her with a gentle smile, her heart pounding in her chest as she felt her soft lips on her forehead, Monica found it a bit difficult to speak, purely because of the rush of emotions that burned in her. "I-I-It's uh-all becuh-cause of yuh-you thuh-that I'm buh-buh-better," she answered, pulling herself away just enough so she could look up at the girl, but she kept her arms wrapped around her. If she had the choice, then Monica would never let this girl go. She meant so much to her than anyone had ever before in her life. And, no matter what, she was determined not to lose her. As her pale green eyes fell onto Denver's own hazel eyes, her fingers lightly began to play with the girl's short hair, twirling and twisting the golden strands around her fingers. "I-I'm suh-so happy I-I-I muh-met you, Duh-Denver..."

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[atrb=background,http://i288.photobucket.com/albums/ll192/_Kamora_/denverbackground_zps92dc7670.png] This was still so surreal to the blonde as she ducked her head out of nervous fashion. She wasn't used to people actually being happy to be around her, and it still surprised her when Monica smiled at her words or returned them. She couldn't help but squeeze the other girl tighter as a wave of happiness caused her knees to threaten to give way. But then was brought back to reality by guilt. "You wouldn't have needed to get better if it weren't for me." The young woman had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from speaking those words. She tasted the blood in her mouth as she forcefully brought herself down from Cloud Nine. Why couldn't she just let herself have a day worth of happiness? Because I don't deserve it. She bit back, gaze faltering as Monica tangled her fingers in her hair. She wanted to lean into the touch, but instead the blonde ducked away. The shorter girl may had forgiven her for her failure, but Denver still hadn't forgiven herself. She slipped into one of the worn out seats and folded her arms on the table so she could prop up head with a side glance at Monica. All of this had happened so much - this fatal attraction. Denver furrowed her brow as she studied Monica's face absentmindedly. She didn't know anything about this girl and Monica didn't know anything about her. Was that was love was? The blonde felt like she knew the other girl's bare personality, and felt like that was enough. But it wasn't really. "Tell me about you." She blurted out, her hazel eyes searching if that was an okay thing to discuss. She wanted to know everything about the girl that was currently holding her heart. She wanted to know what her what her sweetest memories were, or if she had been treated good, or what her favorite ice cream flavor had been. Denver licked her lips as she unashamedly stared. "T-Tell me, tell me about your life, your life before all of, all of this." She nodded distractedly as she spoke, suddenly full of curiosity to learn about her new friend. Denver scooted over in the seat until she was against the side of the train car, inviting the other girl to sit next to her.

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[Monica Jones]

[atrb=width,500,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][bg=CBA0FF] After all the time she had spent trapped in this hell on earth, simply living at the most basic standards one could possibly stoop to, it was almost foreign at that point to feel such a strong sense of affection from anybody. Monica had always had some sort of affectionate bond with someone before she had been brought to this place. Her parents were always there when she needed them and, even when she had grown into a young woman, they still kept that sense of affectionate contact simply because it was something she needed. And, that was one of the reasons why she loved being with this taller blonde so much. She could get the gentle contact she had been searching for after being dumped into the Menagerie. Denver was almost a drug to her in a way. She could simply never get enough of her, always wanting more. And, during the times when they couldn't be with one another, she simple craved for that familiarity and that sense of comfort. As her arms remained loosely wrapped around the girl's neck, Monica's pale eyes continued to shine brightly with happiness. But, a film of concern flew over that gleam as the other shifter ducked away from her. Had she said something wrong? A sense of uncertainty and a twinge of fear gripped at her throat as she watched Denver move to one of the worn out seats of the car. She didn't move from where she stood, not really sure what to do with herself until the soft caress of Denver's voice met her ears. She was still a bit confused as to why the girl had pulled away, but she said nothing about it as she allowed a small smile to return to her lips, hesitantly stepping towards the seat. As she lowered herself onto the seat beside Denver, the blonde's shoulders shrugged faintly as she stared at the surface of the rugged table that rested in front of them. "Wuh-Well...There i-isn't muh-muh-much to tell," she said with a bit of a nervous chuckle, glancing up at the girl that simply made her heart want to burst from her chest. As she spoke, her stuttering was becoming less and less. Her stutter was a natural speech impediment, but the more comfortable and relaxed she got, the less she stuttered. And, if anything, she felt more comfortable with Denver than anyone else. "I-I mean...I'm nuh-nothing too spuh-spuh-special..."

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[atrb=background,http://i288.photobucket.com/albums/ll192/_Kamora_/denverbackground_zps92dc7670.png] She swished her lips back in forth, wiggling a bit in her seat as she waited for the other girl to join her. She had come to terms with the ache that started in her ribcage when the shorter blonde wasn’t touching her, and she had grown used to seeing those round eyes. Maybe she was desperately trying to make up for the lack of affection in her life by drowning herself in it, but for whatever reason the young woman didn’t really mind. It felt nice to finally have a person she could rely her thoughts to without feeling inadequate or like a burden. She casually draped her arm around Monica’s shoulders as the girl sat down and snuggled into her side. When the girl started speaking, Denver ducked her head and poked her nose against Monica’s cheek in a playful fashion. “Oh I bet there is. What are you? 18? 17? That’s a long time.” She giggled. She pulled away and frowned when Monica finished speaking. Not special? She brought her hands up to cup the other girl’s face and stared at her with a pout. “Don’t ever say that. You are special, ya know?” She said seriously and then flushed when she realized how close her face had gotten to the other girl. She pulled away, dropping her hands into her lap. “Well, er, I’ll go first I guess. I’m nineteen. And I lived in Quebec, and er, uh I’m fluent in French.” She focused on her hands as she nodded feverishly, trying to figure out if she wanted to talk about other certain things. But the blonde decided she wanted to keep the conversation light so she flashed a smile at the other girl quickly, “And I really liked mint ice cream.” In truth she had liked anything that was mint because it reminded her of her mother. She had always given Denver a mint candy when she was crying or having a bad day. Denver frowned as she thought about her mother and leaned into the other girl for silent comfort. After a moment she regained herself and a smile ghosted her lips, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Now, you tell me something.” She paused for a moment, unsure if the girl really didn’t want to talk about her past or felt as if she would just bore Denver, “Or ask me questions.” She added just to be safe.

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[Monica Jones]

[atrb=width,500,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][bg=CBA0FF] Monica always enjoyed the company and ability to have some sort of physical contact with anyone. It never mattered who it was, she simply enjoyed it. But, whenever it came from Denver, it was simply special. No one could ever make her feel the way this girl did even if they tried to. This young, beautiful woman meant more than the world to her and could bring her a sense of joy that she hadn't felt since the day her father and sister had died. But, all of her pain and sorrow was forgotten and replaced with her emotions for Denver. As she happily sat beside her, she was a bit surprised when she felt Denver's hands gentle holding her face, a bright blush slipping onto her cheeks by the touch. Her heart picked up the pace as she listened quietly to her words and she suddenly felt a sense of importance. Did she really think she was special? No one else had ever believed so, especially not here. No, she was instead simply thought of as a waste of space in the ring. Smiling softly, lowering her gaze as her shyness took hold of her for a few moments, she almost missed Denver's words. It didn't take long for her to regain her composure, though a faint blush remained on her cheeks. As she listened, Monica had to take a moment to think of where exactly Quebec was. While her mother had indeed done a fabulous job with homeschooling her after her shifting had come into play, she still remained...well, a bit slow with some things. She knew the name was familiar and she had heard it somewhere, but her mind continuously jumped to the thought that this place was somewhere in Russia. It took a few tries, though, until it finally clicked in her mind. Of course, Quebec was in Canada! Where had Russia come from? Blinking away the thoughts, the small blonde did her best to focus once more on the girl that had so quickly captivated her emotions. As Denver came to finish, the hamster shifter no longer felt a need to keep herself from telling her own story. Smiling, a faint giggle rising in her throat, she lightly leaned against Denver, resting her head on her shoulder. "O-Okay, well...I yuh-yuh-used to live in Chuh-Chicago with my muh-muh-mom and...and muh-my dad and sister," she began, though a film of sadness fell over her eyes as she spoke of her father and sister, hesitating for a moment before going on. "Oh, and I-I-I'm uh-eighteen uh-and uh...I luh-like peanut buh-buh-butter."

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[atrb=background,http://i288.photobucket.com/albums/ll192/_Kamora_/denverbackground_zps92dc7670.png] The young woman was humming lightly as she picked up one of the other girl's hand. She turned it over and traced her fingers across the lines, scrutinizing them. At some point she had fantasized about running away from her home like any abused child would, and had imagined herself as a gypsy. She had never really been able to grasp the rules of palm reading, but it always fascinated her. She gently dragged the nail of her finger across what she suspected was Monica's lifeline, and wondered if it was average or short or maybe even long. She wrinkled her brow and stopped humming as she tried to figure it out. Denver decided maybe it was best if she couldn't figure out it out. There was probably a reason humans didn't come with an expiration date. Relaxing when Monica leaned against her and started speaking, the blonde started tracing patterns again. Chicago? She thought for a moment, "Oh, that's in the United States. Illinois, yeah?" She said smiling, proud of herself for remembering some of her home school education. She had ducked her down to look at the other girl with a sly smile on her face as she showed off her smarts, but frowned when she recognized the sadness flickering across the younger girl's face. She didn't have time to debate if she should question it, because Monica was talking again. The blonde pulled back and scrunched up her face in mock disgust. "Yuck!" She squeaked as she eyed the other girl. But the repressed impulsive nature of Denver was beginning to bleed through the more she got comfortable with her new friend, and she did something that surprised herself. Without a thought about it, the blonde leaned in and snuck a kiss. She pulled back after a moment with a slight smirk, "Good thing you don't taste like peanut butter, mon chéri." This felt different. Denver wasn't sure if it was lack of medication or a verbally abusive environment that was allowing her natural born personality to shine through, but she did know the anxiety was still bubbling under her chest. Her face burned red as she realized her words, but the truth was that Denver honestly wouldn't have cared if Monica had tasted like peanut butter. She just wanted more.

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[Monica Jones]

[atrb=width,500,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][bg=CBA0FF] While Denver had been tracing small patterns over her hand, Monica had been overwhelmed with a sense of relaxation. She wasn't sure what it was, but something about the gesture had trigger it. At that point, the blonde almost wanted to just curl up against Denver and forget the world around them and perhaps even fall asleep. Lazily smiling as she leaned a bit more against the other girl, her mind took a moment for her to process the words given to her. Blinking, she gradually nodded her head at the girl's question, giggling a bit at the expression on her face. She had already forgotten how the two of them were from different countries and, really, neither would truly know where common cities were for each other. It took her a moment to realize that, despite how much she hated this damned hell hole, if it weren't for their meeting in this unfortunate place, they probably would've never found one another. Just the thought, the possibility that she could have gone on with her life without ever knowing the blonde sent a shiver down her spine. What would her life had been like if she hadn't meant this girl? How would she ever been able to become so happy? As much as she hated to admit it, she had to thank the wretched keepers for managing to bring them together. It was really the only thing thankful those bastard manage to do. But, those thoughts were brushed off for a time as she heard the teasing voice of Denver ring in her ears. Looking up at her with mock surprise, a faint pout on her face, Monica opened her mouth to say something but her words caught in her throat as she felt the soft brush of Denver's lips. It took a moment for her to recover, her cheeks glowing with a small blush as a smile stretched over her lips. A sweet giggle slipped past the hamster shifter's lips, her heart fluttering in her chest as she playfully but lightly shoved her shoulder with her own, her pale green eyes shining. "Wuh-Wuh-Well, that's guh-good to nuh-nuh-know," she stuttered out, playfully sticking her tongue out at the girl before slipping into a little fit of giggles once more.

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[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 426px; height: 600px; background-image:url(http://i288.photobucket.com/albums/ll192/_Kamora_/denntable3_zpsabeb47a6.png)] She was biting her lip and blushing hard as she tried to regain control of herself. Within the last few moments Denver felt as if she had gotten onto one of those carnival rides that spun in circles, but she wasn't planning on getting out anytime soon. It was becoming habit that she didn't feel an unpleasant headrush when she was greeted with warm eyes a smile from the now familiar blonde, and she had grown to enjoy their ability to easily mesh together. She had felt so alone her entire life, but suddenly things were coming together. "Tu me manques.” She mumbled in slight amazement as the other girl started giggling after Denver's brash actions. The young woman couldn't help but giggle as the laughter become infectious, and she leaned her head into Monica's shoulder. She felt wanted, and although the feeling was foreign it was not unwelcomed. When her laughter died down, she took a deep breath of air and sighed contently as she removed her head from the other girl's shoulder. Her hair had been mused, and now hazel eyes stared up through wild blonde locks. Denver huffed slightly as she pulled back slightly from how she had been snuggled up against Monica, and began to push her hair back. She frowned with sudden realization,"It's gonna start growing again!" A look of despair crossed her features as her fingers stopped running through the blonde hair. In truth she had planned for her hair to grow back out to its former glory, but now Denver had grown partial to her lion's mane worth of hair and liked how manageable it was. It was probably silly to worry about something like this, but her hair also symbolized something else. Not that she'd admit to Monica, but she had locked herself in the bathroom of her old home and cut the long locks off herself in fit of passion after a heated argument with her step mother. She had also took a few too many of her medication and had ended up with a trip to the ER, but that definitely did not need to be mentioned. Denver was a new person and she was searching desperately for a new mindset. She pouted a moment longer before beginning to fiddle with Monica's long hair as she snuggled back into the other girl's side. The paranoia that lurked underneath Denver's skin was beginning to stir, 'If I have time to worry about my hair, then the going is too good. Something bad must be coming." She couldn't help but think the worst, since every time something good did happen it never lasted for long and often times ended in violence. She frowned again, but pulled herself out of the darkening thoughts. It would be best to soak up as much sun as she could before the storm hit. Instead, she pecked Monica's cheek lightly and settled back against her shoulder and resumed tracing patterns on the other girl's hands. "You better be careful, Monica. You're making me awfully attached to you, and it's sorta hard to get rid of me." She turned her head and rested her chin on the top of blonde's shoulder as she flashed a grin. Her eyes sparked with challenge and a slight fear that the other girl could still reject her affections, but Denver's heart told her the other girl was in too deep.

[Monica Jones]

[atrb=width,500,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][bg=CBA0FF] Even when she had been a young child who would cling onto every person that would allow her to, Monica couldn't think of a single time when she had truly felt close to someone. She loved hugs and having even the simplest contact with someone, but something had always been missing. Her entire life she had thought little of it, thinking it was simply just her being...well, her. She was sure that she was just searching for something that just wasn't there. But, now, after being able to grow close to this magnificent young woman, she knew that she had indeed been missing something. She had been missing love. She had had a special connection with her mother and father, yes, but she knew this was different. As Denver's words echoed in her ears, the blonde shifter felt her heart swell just as it had when she had first heard those words. Or, rather, after she had learned what they had meant. She loved hearing the girl say that, the words making her feel wanted, needed. In almost every story, every tale that had ever been told in history there had been the belief that there was always someone out there that perfectly matched another. Fairy tales told of True Love, myths told of the merging of two separate but powerful beings, even movies continued to push such a dream, a fantasy. And, for the longest time, Monica had believed it had been nothing more but a simple story to help children fall asleep. But, as she sat there with Denver leaning against her, she could once again believe. Lost in her thoughts of the girl that rested against her, Monica jumped as the girl pulled back and gave a whine about her hair. For a moment she just stared at the girl before laughing. Why such a fuss over hair? "Duh-Denver," she began in a playful tone, her eyes bright with laughter. "We aren't cuh-completely useless out huh-here. We have thuh-things to keep your huh-huh-hair short." She said as she rolled her eyes, but her expression continued to hold her laughter. Her pale green eyes quietly watched the other blonde as she leaned against her once more, her smile widening as she felt her hand again soothed by Denver's soft fingers. Why couldn't life just stay like this forever? Why did they have to worry about food or other Rings or Viruses? She just wanted to be here with Denver and never have to go. Having leaned farther into the old bench of the train cab, her eyes lazily closed for a few moments, her mind going blank as she focused purely on Denver. The moment passed, though, as she felt the girl shift in her position once more, causing Monica to open her eyes and look curiously at the blonde. "Guh-Good...Because I nuh-nuh-never want to get ruh-rid of you," she responded with a shy smile, resting her forehead against Denver's, her pale green eyes meeting with hazel.

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