Need a hundred lifetimes kinda love
He loses track of the moment. Time tends to mean so little whenever he's got her in his arms, somehow slowing into the space between heartbeats and working towards the forever they once tried to claim, and other times tumbling far too fast that he finds himself empty of her too soon. Impossibly, sometimes it's both at once. He holds her firm and steady through the moment, however long it is, wholly transfixed as he marvels at everything she is and that all of that is here in his hands. Cold pricks sharply at the edges where the warmth of her skin meets his sweater, seemingly jealous of the heat that conjures so easily between them. A whispered conversation of contact begins as the lace brushes along the pair of them in response to her arch, strawberries seeming to be the topic. He can feel the supple way her trust settles in his grip, and in response his fingers curl tighter, promising to hold her steady through shipwrecks and lace alike.
The hat, ridiculous and perfect as the pom-poms bob softly at the edge of his vision, is a more weighty I love you than any they've ever spoken. As grand and dramatic as they both can be, it's the little things that linger most, so small that they nestle into cracks inside him he never knew about until she's made them whole again. Her words drift low and playful, and the sound of her smile in them makes his own deepen immediately. A soft, helpless laugh huffs out of him as his nose brushes her shoulder again, too awed to hold in the swell that builds in his chest. “Of that,” he murmurs, voice warm and certain against her collarbone, “I have absolutely no doubt.”
Reluctantly, he pulls her up from the dip, hands never leaving her as he guides her upright. His gaze flicks sideways toward the counter and the mugs sit there, arranged in their heart formation, steam still rising even if the chill is already working them into something sippable. He squints at them, then back at her, lips quirking as if she's made a joke and not a comparison. “There’s no contest there, Ro,” he scoffs. “You win. You always will.” Though, she'll have to taste test them and let him know. Might offer her some warmth before he can manage to again.
His attention glides back to her, one hand sliding back up to her palm and the package she tucked away there. His thumb brushes over the bottom of her wrist as he finally accepts the lace-wrapped box, leaning in with a kiss in exchange. The claim is unhurried and affectionate, lingering like a promise, which then deepens for a moment as his hand rises to her cheek, box pressed there like an afterthought, suddenly too captured by her mouth to abide by his original plan. He does sigh into a release though, pulling back with bright excitement sparking up the amber of his eyes. “Okay,” he grins, giving the box a gentle shake near his ear, the temptation of the surprise rising above the allure of her curves for the time being now. “So what’s this?” he wonders, fingers beginning to tug at the lace and wrapping.
The hat, ridiculous and perfect as the pom-poms bob softly at the edge of his vision, is a more weighty I love you than any they've ever spoken. As grand and dramatic as they both can be, it's the little things that linger most, so small that they nestle into cracks inside him he never knew about until she's made them whole again. Her words drift low and playful, and the sound of her smile in them makes his own deepen immediately. A soft, helpless laugh huffs out of him as his nose brushes her shoulder again, too awed to hold in the swell that builds in his chest. “Of that,” he murmurs, voice warm and certain against her collarbone, “I have absolutely no doubt.”
Reluctantly, he pulls her up from the dip, hands never leaving her as he guides her upright. His gaze flicks sideways toward the counter and the mugs sit there, arranged in their heart formation, steam still rising even if the chill is already working them into something sippable. He squints at them, then back at her, lips quirking as if she's made a joke and not a comparison. “There’s no contest there, Ro,” he scoffs. “You win. You always will.” Though, she'll have to taste test them and let him know. Might offer her some warmth before he can manage to again.
His attention glides back to her, one hand sliding back up to her palm and the package she tucked away there. His thumb brushes over the bottom of her wrist as he finally accepts the lace-wrapped box, leaning in with a kiss in exchange. The claim is unhurried and affectionate, lingering like a promise, which then deepens for a moment as his hand rises to her cheek, box pressed there like an afterthought, suddenly too captured by her mouth to abide by his original plan. He does sigh into a release though, pulling back with bright excitement sparking up the amber of his eyes. “Okay,” he grins, giving the box a gentle shake near his ear, the temptation of the surprise rising above the allure of her curves for the time being now. “So what’s this?” he wonders, fingers beginning to tug at the lace and wrapping.
Kaisel
I could say forever, but forever ain't long enough
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
