Travis sort of knew he was capable enough to cook something that wouldn't only be edible, but absolutely delicious; it didn't matter if it was bacon and eggs or a ridiculously long named meal that needed hours to be ready. And Makayla's cooking, while not as...complicated as Travis', always tasted well for him, although it was perhaps he would convince himself it was tasty anyway. But Travis would be happy to find her a cooking reality show, if possible.
He liked how she smelled, clean and fresh, no strong scents covering her natural one. Even when his nose had been like anyone else, he had closed his eyes and sighed the first time he could take a breath close to her. Pheromones, some might say, but time had only made that smell better and better. Like a really good, sexy wine.
Travis pulled his wife from her hand, making her do a little spin and bringing her closer to him, an arm around her waist as he leaded her to the dinning room, the other hand still holding hers and pointing to the room. There she would find his dish, exactly on its prime, among two simple white plates, the champagne and two cups waiting for them, several candles around the room. And the petals, thousands of them. "Happy Birthday honey."