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She wasn't sure where he went, after the 7 years at the university, they had been together then, but they weren't exactly in a long term relationship----Call it, friends with benefits, if you will. Although she wanted it to be something more, she kept a sock in it, because, well...She was a wimp, a love-struck wimp who couldn't face the music that she was hopelessly over the moon about this man. Though not many women fought over him. Boy were they missing out. Franklin Stein, whom everybody mistakenly called Franken, was a giant of a man, up to six foot ten in height. If Marie remembered correctly, that wasn't the only place that was giant, if you caught the drift. He had piercings everywhere, as well as tattoos made to look like scars, the only tattoo that differed from the rest, was a golden rose with black lightning bolts on the petals, cursive writing that read 'Marie', underneath it. He had it placed on his left shoulder, he had it placed there, because he loved her, and he was too shy and awkward to admit it, a wuss some would say. But hey, they were both too wussy to admit it, until he saw her walking out of the local Starbucks, hot cocoa in tow. He was just about to walk in and get his usual cup of coffee and--- Oh my God!. She had nearly spat out her drink all over him, when she noticed he'd stopped walking towards the door, now facing her. Crap. It was starting to rain. There was that tattoo, he's got her name written on a rose tattoo, and he's proud. And she's got a patchwork rose with cursive writing that read, 'Franklin' underneath. Such goes the way of how birds of a feather, flock together, correct? He stoops down to kiss her, she cups the right side of his face, brushing her thumb against his cheek. He knows she loves him, just by looking into that single gold eye, His mint green eyes, looking at that pearly smile, and sweet pink blush daintily gracing her sweet face. He's smitten, and so is she.