Memories of such time together were precious to William.  They had shared so much then; their dreams, their emotions, their hopes for the future.  Never once had they called it love but it was hard to miss and even harder to deny.  The years away had made those memories fade a bit but they were still there and only became more vivid and vibrant as they stepped into the kitchen together.  Everything was the way it had always been, how he remembered it.  Very little had changed and he found much comfort in that.<br/><br/>The old wooden table still sat in the center of the kitchen, with its four accompanying chairs, each one as equally worn and scarred from generations of use.  The gloominess of the kitchen remained even in mid-afternoon and gave it a sort of odd privacy that he had never been able to fully explain but loved nonetheless.  The wooden bench by the wall, just under the window was just as battered as it had always been, with the one wobbly leg.  The tea kettle, made of black iron, sat on one of the stoves' burners while the tea set Catherine's mother had gotten in Paris and gifted to her daughter was laid out on the table.  Everything was as he remembered except for them.<br/><br/>They had changed but how much?<br/><br/>William gave Catherine a soft smile and nodded as he sat down on his customary seat on the edge of the bench, his dark eyes searching her own for such sweetly remembered times of the past.<br/><br/>"I do.  That tea cup with the chip on the lip... you always favored it despite it being damaged.  I wonder if I was any different?"<br/><br/>He gave a gentle laugh then, the sound of it much like those they had shared as children.  He smiled brightly and motioned for her to sit down beside him.  The tea could wait.<br/><br/>"I have much to tell you and I remember with such fondness all we shared in the past.  I only hope it can be like that again... and more."<br/><br/>The last words were spoken nearly in a whisper, an echo of his heart's truest desires.