Maea
The worst of all blessings
The slow smile spreading across her face answered before she could reply. "Yes, please. I need to restock after yesterday's disaster. Plus, it will be nice to move for a bit." Her eyes rolled skyward, but with more amusement than self-reproach.
The notion that they could shop for only one household did cross her mind, but that was taking it a bit far even after the solemn vows of this morning. If this crave for touch and closeness was any indication then 'taking it slow' would by necessity mean spending time apart. In their own houses, their own beds, where time and solitude would allow the seeds sown today to grow at their own pace. Today she wanted to stay by his side - tomorrow might require some alone time to decompress and absorb every radical change her life was about to take.
Polishing off the last of her eggs before settling back to enjoy the rest of her tea, she found herself looking forward to the day. Whatever plans she'd made before could wait; even searching for roses took a backseat to the simple pleasure of washing dishes and grocery shopping, strolling through the village hand in hand and discussing where to begin the hunt. The scenes unfurled like pastoral watercolours in her mind's eye, rich and lovely; and if it didn't turn out exactly that way, it didn't mean it wasn't still perfect.
The notion that they could shop for only one household did cross her mind, but that was taking it a bit far even after the solemn vows of this morning. If this crave for touch and closeness was any indication then 'taking it slow' would by necessity mean spending time apart. In their own houses, their own beds, where time and solitude would allow the seeds sown today to grow at their own pace. Today she wanted to stay by his side - tomorrow might require some alone time to decompress and absorb every radical change her life was about to take.
Polishing off the last of her eggs before settling back to enjoy the rest of her tea, she found herself looking forward to the day. Whatever plans she'd made before could wait; even searching for roses took a backseat to the simple pleasure of washing dishes and grocery shopping, strolling through the village hand in hand and discussing where to begin the hunt. The scenes unfurled like pastoral watercolours in her mind's eye, rich and lovely; and if it didn't turn out exactly that way, it didn't mean it wasn't still perfect.
The most beautiful of curses
Base by Skylark
