Liliana laughed, her hand skimming down between them at his salacious little sally there, and then spun out elegantly, gown belling, hair arcing, starlight glinting off of her headdress. And then, still laughing, she was whirling back into the warmth of his arms, face tilted up to his.
And then he asked her and the laughter stopped and her eyes went wide, her feet losing their grace and stumbling through the rhythm.
"What?" she gasped. Then, "Oh!" A pause where she just looked at him, mere fractions of a second, surely, but it likely felt like forever as she trembled in his arms, wanting to sputter, wanting to demand that he repeat it so she knew she'd heard him correctly, wanting to kiss him harder than she'd ever kissed anyone in her life, wanting to Planeswalk away beyond where anyone could find her. "I...I..." Her heart was racing, it was hard to breathe through the maelstrom of emotions within her. She couldn't remove the image of the bag from Thursday from her mind, the one that had started her even considering marriage at all as a possibility, once it had become obvious that it could never be one.
"Do you truly mean it?" she asked him, barely above a whisper. She'd seen the bag, Ignis, had guessed where it had come from, the graveyard of your heart. "It's all right if you don't. I don't require--" She stopped talking, looking at him, his face, the way he was projecting all his love and adoration at her. She exhaled a shaky breath, and worked through the fear to allow herself to be honest. To be vulnerable.
"I can think of nothing that would make me happier," she whispered. In that moment, not even her freedom, not even reversing the Mending, seemed to equal it.
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And then he asked her and the laughter stopped and her eyes went wide, her feet losing their grace and stumbling through the rhythm.
"What?" she gasped. Then, "Oh!" A pause where she just looked at him, mere fractions of a second, surely, but it likely felt like forever as she trembled in his arms, wanting to sputter, wanting to demand that he repeat it so she knew she'd heard him correctly, wanting to kiss him harder than she'd ever kissed anyone in her life, wanting to Planeswalk away beyond where anyone could find her. "I...I..." Her heart was racing, it was hard to breathe through the maelstrom of emotions within her. She couldn't remove the image of the bag from Thursday from her mind, the one that had started her even considering marriage at all as a possibility, once it had become obvious that it could never be one.
"Do you truly mean it?" she asked him, barely above a whisper. She'd seen the bag, Ignis, had guessed where it had come from, the graveyard of your heart. "It's all right if you don't. I don't require--" She stopped talking, looking at him, his face, the way he was projecting all his love and adoration at her. She exhaled a shaky breath, and worked through the fear to allow herself to be honest. To be vulnerable.
"I can think of nothing that would make me happier," she whispered. In that moment, not even her freedom, not even reversing the Mending, seemed to equal it.