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"I'm glad it's me you miss." It felt like an honor, to know that she hadn't known what missing felt like until she'd met him. He wanted to make her feel everything she hadn't felt before, and experience them all over again through her eyes. He thought this would be the case with carrying her to the theatre, so when she told him she was capable without him, his lips immediately began to form a pitiful frown.

She did not leave him suffering for long, and her answer was much better than any other thing she could have said. This way, he knew that she wanted him to carry her - not because she needed him to, but because she wanted him to. She wanted to be in his arms every step, pressed against him, her safety solely in his hands. He grinned, and it hurt his cheeks with out wide it was. He slid into his shoes, put his wallet in his back pocket, and grabbed his keys before opening his door.

"Your wish is my command, my lady." He spoke, his voice flowery and possibly trying to sound British but failing. He moved to stand in front of her, and his hands took their time running wantonly down the length of her body before they finally hooked under her knees and around her waist. She was lifted up into his arms without warning, and carried bridal style in an ironic twist on walking across the threshold, by carrying her out of the apartment instead of inside of it. Getting the door to close after they were outside was a little tricky, as he had to shift her weight to one arm while he reached out to pull it closed, and locked the door. Then he bounced her just enough to settle her back into his arms, and snuggled his head into her neck.

"I'll carry you every step. I'd carry you anywhere you wanted me to. The only thing better than holding you, would be if we never had to leave my room and I could just lay in bed with you forever."

But that was a fantasy that would require throwing away both of their professional careers, and as much as he thoroughly enjoyed living in fantasy, he wasn't ready to do that for either of them.

He carefully tread down the steps of the apartment, bending to try and see where he was going past her body, until they made it outside of the apartment. There, he hefted her up just slightly, holding her out proudly to the world.

"THIS IS MY WIFE, EVERYBODY!" He screamed out into the cold city air.

Nobody cared.

Robert was slowly attempting to settle into reasonability, despite how much happier he was in that warm, lush world they'd weaved around themselves like a protective cloak. He was getting a little worried about his job security, when she kissed him on the cheek, and he found he couldn't keep a hold of what it was he was worried about. She managed to give him something worth higher priority than any other, forgettable worry, anyway. She asked him if he would love her when he was Enjolras.

And while his initial reaction was to immediately say yes, he realized that playing a part was completely immersive, to him. If he agreed to being in love with Mimsy, while he was enraptured in the role of Enjolras, would it affect his performance? Would he be unable to fully perform his intensive role, when all he wanted to do was wave down into the audience and scream, HELLO, WIFE!

Probably.

"I won't be Enjolras." He tried to reason it out, to himself as much as to her. "When I perform, it's like.. it's like I'm making something with my mind. The character is created, word for word, step by step, like a painting in my head. And I try to express what I see him feeling, and doing, with my movements. But it's still me, doing this thing. It's me, performing an art for others to try and read, and understand. And there's no doubt I'll ever not love you, no matter what I'm doing." He hugged her hard, against him, and started to trot into a jog. "Even when I'm performing the role of somebody else, it's still me deep down, behind the words and the moves and the music." He took in a deep breath, mainly because he loved the scent of her. "But when I'm done making this thing come to life, I come to the front of the stage, and I take a bow, and that's when you'll know. Even all fussed up as Enjolras, it'll still be me, the guy who's fallen so absolutely and ridiculously in love with you, that there's no turning back."

And there was no turning back, because they'd made it to the theatre, and he was pushing his back against the back door, sneaking her inside. He refused to put her down until someone told him to get on stage, and they were not about to do that yet - on stage, still in their normal clothes, 'Marius' was singing to 'Cosette'. He'd missed his first scene, but it was a small one, and certainly not as important. He knew he'd still get chewed up when they realized he was here, though.

And he didn't care. He found his soulmate. He didn't care what the world had in store for him, as long as he still had her in his arms.

He slid himself to the right, and slowly, quietly walked up a door that led backstage before the director could notice he was there. When he got there, he finally set her down on her feet, near the dressing rooms. He opened up the one that he used, which had his costume as well as Marius and a few of the other revolutionaries, and led her inside.

Only then, did he continue to address her worries. This was not a topic he wanted to whisper.

"Well, first off, I should tell you that Enjolras doesn't love anyone as far as we know. He has no love interest in the musical, and he dies in the end, so he never will. But I only say that because it's true, not because it helps you with your worry." He sat her down on one of the makeup chairs, and then knelt down carefully in front of her. His hands rested firmly on her knees, and his fingers never quite stayed still against them.

"But there will be times when I have to play someone who has a love interest. I might even have to play a love scene one day. I doubt it, really - I'm not exactly what you'd call male lead material." He chuckled and rubbed his hand through his hair shyly. "But if I do, I don't want you to worry that I don't love you. And more importantly, I don't want you to think that I love anyone else but you, because that's impossible. I can act like it, but it's not the same as our games. When we pretend, it's like.." He struggled to find the words, and bit his tongue as he searched for them. "It's like when I'm with you, and we're talking about something absolutely impossible, suddenly it becomes possible. It's like you're magic, Mimsy. You and me mixing up together becomes magic. And no matter what I say to anyone else, or what anyone else says to me.. there's no magic in this world other than ours."

That was how it felt, and he had no other way of explaining how strongly he was sure of it. Still, it sounded dumb, and he knew it. "Does that at least make a little sense? I'm sorry I'm not good with the words and stuff like that.."

Just because he said it, that part of him that always fell back behind others surged forward, as if there had never been any insecurity about the issue. It was laughable, because he still knew it had been there, and he knew that he'd probably still feel insecure later on, but all she had to say was that she believed he could do something, and he suddenly was able to do it. It wasn't as ridiculous as he'd thought - she was magic.

"It's not - it can't be just me. You have to believe me, Mimsy. It's both of us, together, that make everything we want come true. You changed the world for me, too. Don't you know that? You remade it so that everything pales in importance next to you. The world doesn't make sense because - like - we don't even live in it anymore. We live in a better world that's just you and me, and we can sort of see everyone else and they can see us but it's never going to be the same. Never ever."

He was rambling - his voice had gotten a little breathless from how hard he was trying, and the words tumbled out thoughtlessly. It was only here that he took a moment to breathe, and try to make some kind of sense.

His hands reached for hers, behind his back. He squeezed them, and then let go, choosing to wrap his arms around her instead. As soon as he held her again, he felt the rush of desperation ease away.

"Maybe we don't understand it exactly, right now. But as long as you believe that you're the only one I'll ever love, no matter what, then I guess being a little afraid of the world's not such a bad thing. I'm afraid the world's going to take you away from me one day too, even though I know, I know I can't let it. But maybe it's.. maybe because we only just found each other, and this is so new. Maybe we just need time to come to terms with this magic we've made. It's okay to be scared at first, I think. It's okay."

He'd been scared several times. Scared they were moving too fast. Scared he was falling too hard. Scared she would leave him for Switzerland. They were acceptable fears. Maybe this one was, too.

She looked absolutely radiant with joy when she felt like she'd figured it all out, but Robert was never more lost than he was in that moment. She was talking about Wonderland, which he knew only from the book about Alice, and he'd made the connection that she'd named her project Alice, too. So understanding the situation came in loose, choppy threads that he tried to put together and tied up where he could.

They did live in their own little world, he already knew that. Maybe she was calling their world Wonderland, because it made no sense to anyone else but them, and that was just how it should be. That made sense, now that he thought about it. Whatever little bubble they'd formed around each other the moment they'd met needed a name, and Wonderland sounded like a good one.

Did she love that story? Was it really all she ever wanted since childhood? He grinned, and relished in the pride of being the one to make her dreams come true. He wanted to give her everything, and she wanted Wonderland. Nothing was more important to him, now. "Thank you, Mimsy." He whispered, bending in to kiss her hair. "I'm so glad I fell down this rabbit hole with you."

But their moment was fated to end sooner than it should, because the man who was filling in his role for the rehearsal's suddenly walked into the door, shivering with excitement. Robert's disappearance meant he might have actually had a chance to fill in for the role tonight, and dress rehearsals were about to begin - so he was coming in to try on the outfit, when he saw Robert and Mimsy all but attached to one another on the chair. He didn't care that they looked inappropriately close, by the look in his eye. He just looked crushed that he wasn't going to play Enjolras tonight.

"Dress rehearsal." He mumbled to Robert before leaving with a door slam, clearly bitter about the loss.

"Whoops." Robert giggled, standing up slowly. "I better get into my wardrobe. You can stay in here, but I have to warn you, a couple of other men are going to come in here and get pretty damn naked. If you don't care, I don't care." He cared, but he wasn't going to admit it. The flex of his thick neck did, though.

"And that's why I wouldn't care. 'Cause I trust you won't be looking, so there's no point in making you wait outside." And he did, when he thought about it. It helped that the actor who played Marius was, in his biased opinion, pitifully underdeveloped. But for the most part, Robert could not imagine a world where Mimsy's eyes roamed.

"The plot is-" He was going to try and explain it to her, despite the fact that he was completely, utterly, hopelessly distracted with her offer to help him get ready. Oh, God, how he wanted her to help him right now. He wanted to sit her down on the makeup table and be helped right then and there. "It's uh, it's about the French Revolution," His breathing quickened, as did his heart rate. He picked her up, and sat her down on the table, standing flush against her and struggling to put two words together. "We're fighting against the - God I want you so bad right now." The admittance was immediately followed with a swift, stolen kiss, and hands that wandered in ways the public would deem inappropriate. This was proven true when the door opened again, and the actor who was to play Marius walked in on them together. He flinched and closed the door behind him, picking up a coat and throwing it at Robert's back.

"Jesus man, not in the dressing room. That's gross." He really hoped this was not a common occurance - and decided in that moment never to walk around the dressing room barefoot.

Robert flushed with embarrassment - and arousal, if he was honest with himself - and put an inch of space between him and Mimsy, before turning his head and holding her so that he could introduce her. "Sorry Brian. Mimsy, this is Brian, he plays Marius. Brian, this is Mimsy. My - " Was he really going to say it? Not only did he, but he said it with a smile as proud and bright as the sun. " - Wife."

Marius had been solidly under the impression Robert was single, and he'd seen the man vaguely flirting with women after the show, so he looked just a little concerned at the remark.

"It's nice to meet you." He remarked, his expression still openly anxious. He turned back to look at Robert quickly. "The director's coming. He wants us dressed and on stage. Wife or not, this kind of thing.." He waved nervously at the two of them. "Pretty sure it's a death sentence for your career."

"Thanks, bro." Robert replied, earnestly appreciating the heads up. He pulled away completely, but turned both left and right before finding a way to get to his wardrobe without baring his full front at Brian. He was still recovering from his previous problem, and the man did not need to see evidence of that. He picked up his outfit and held it in front of him, finally able to turn around and see Brian standing there impatiently. Robert gave him a blank look.

".. I need to get dressed too?" He answered the silence, nudging his head at Mimsy. Apparently, even if Robert and Mimsy both did not care about men naked, some men cared about being naked in front of her. His feelings had never entered the equation before. And why would they? He did not live in Wonderland.

Robert did not make the connection that Brian's nervous fidgeting meant something other than a need for modesty. When Mimsy asked him why the man didn't want her with him, Robert pulled his shirt off over his head, and undid his pants. "She's not going to look at you. Trust me bro. I can promise that." And he could, because he believed it with all of his heart - but also, he still thought Brian was nothing special to look at compared to him.

Brian let out a long, exasperated sigh, before he went to pick his outfit off of the rack, and then proceed to hide behind it for some semblence of privacy. He kept giving Mimsy dirty looks from over the edge of it to check if she was looking.

"Don't worry about him." Robert chuckled out, flattening out the rather fluffy white shirt he was trying to slide onto his arms. "He's a little shy. It's not that he doesn't want you with me, it's that he wants to be in private while he gets dressed, so you don't see how much sexier your husband is than him."

"Hey!"

Robert did not turn when he cried out in dissent, but instead lifted his head to grin devilishly at his wife. He continued to button up his shirt, but before he was done he turned to his cuffs instead.

"Your offer to help can wait until the show's over, right?" Was there a small hint of desperation in his voice? "I'm going to need help getting this off just as much as I'd need it getting it on." He paused, heard the pun, and let out a holler of a laugh. Oh, he was just so clever!