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Zayne, predictably, likes being married.
Marrying you had been his intention from the start. Long before you started seeing each other—there had always been a strange feeling about you gnawing at his subconscious. You had an undeniable impact on his life in more ways then one. The warm sound of your laughter, the vision of you as a child - chubby cheeks and missing tooth, had resonance in his heart like nothing else in the world.
A warm, fuzzy nostalgia.
Seeing you again and having you come back into his life so innocuously affirmed that gut feeling. Strung together by fate—Zayne was sure you’d always be someone important to him.
He didn’t have any real plans, then. Not to fall in love or pursue you. Just a persistent intuition that he couldn’t shake off. A desire to stay a minute longer each time it was time to part ways.
Zayne always thought he would be the type of person to love slowly if he were to fall in love at all. Your existence like a whirlwind, however, proves him wrong. You appeared in Zayne’s life so suddenly, and upon your return and every moment that accumulated between you—Zayne found himself falling hard and fast.
Even now, he has a hard time putting his affection for you into words. He’s sure this will be a point of contention for as long as you both live. It’s not that he has nothing to say, but that the language spoken most often between you does not seem to have a word strong enough to express the depth of his devotion. He’s not well suited with language or poetry, much better with his hands.
He hopes for as long as you live you’ll never have to open your own car door again.
The point is—he spent his life half-convinced he’d never settle down at all; then you showed up and everything is different now.
Kinder, soft, easier. Zayne loves you the way snow loves the sun when it shows up in spring. You love him the same way. Melt him down to marrow so he can soak the soil, give back to what he loves so dearly. Without you, he’d remain solid and unchanged he’s sure.
So, even before you began seeing each other officially, and before you could call yourself feelings—Zayne knew it’d be you. In some cosmic, ridiculous way. He always knew you’d matter, because you always mattered.
But the moment he knew he wanted to marry you was after he’d lost a patient.
It was your efforts then. How you stayed with him and attempted to cheer him up. How your whole demeanor shifted. The worried furrow of your brow. The softness in your words as you dragged him into a ferris wheel to make him feel better.
The truth is: He had tuned you out half-way through your speech. Your words had fallen on deaf ears. Something inexplicable tugged at him. Watching you clumsily navigate how to cheer him up. The nervous look on your face, the way you picked at your hands.
It was seeing you so desperate, so concerned. To ensure the burden could be split two ways so that Zayne wouldn’t have to bear it all alone. Every part of you so terribly sincere, so awfully lovely.
Zayne waited for as long as he could bear it before proposing to you. Proposed to you in a small, quiet way - somewhat out of the blue, on the fourth year anniversary of your relationship. Sat next to you in a private booth at a nice dinner, he’d taken your hand and slipped the ring on - asked gently if you’d like to marry him. That he loved you and wanted to be with you for the rest of his life.
(Zayne still smiles to himself at the memory of your acceptance. Your eyes went wide before you placed a soft punch to his shoulder—gasping his name in disbelief. He’d teased you about your lack of reply, which caused you to kiss him hard while you said yes, god yes against his mouth.
Whenever he remembers he thinks about how nice it’d be to live it again.)
It took about a year to get everything prepared. Marriage is a union of people but it’s also a union of finances and assets and boatload of other legal matters. All in all, from registration to reception - it’d taken you and Zayne a year to officially become a married couple. You’d also moved into a new house together during that time.
So, you and Zayne had an outrageously hectic year of planning and moving and being busy before you could have your actual marriage celebration. Though you’d been married on paper for some time, you only had your wedding fairly recently and have only just returned from your honeymoon a few weeks prior
After so much marital bliss, your lives have fallen into the predictable routine that Zayne is fond of. You wake up at different times, and you both work incredibly busy hours. Living together has required you make more efforts to see each other intentionally, but Zayne finds he does not mind this at all. It’s not that different from how you operated before in many ways.
Having been together so long, Zayne honestly was not expecting to still feel so…giddy over your recent wedding. He thinks (read: hopes) he masks his emotions about it well enough that no one else can tell just how elated he feels.
He was under the impression he was never going to get married at all, to anyone. He chose to marry you because it felt like the right thing after so many years together and several months living together. And sure it was different, but it’s not like there’s many firsts for you left to have. Didn’t think there were any new emotions to uncover.
After all, you had domestic partnership already. He’s known you, loved you for years now. And yet, hearing people use the word wife to talk about you in relation to him made him feel good. Better than it should have. He finds the whole ordeal silly, but it does not make it any less true.
Zayne finds that being married hasn’t done anything but make him miss you—want you more. He wonders if you’re fairing any better.
__
Having been returned to the office for a few weeks now, Zayne is mostly getting caught-up with paperwork.
He has no surgeries scheduled for the next few days, so he’s a little surprised hearing someone knock on his office door midday.
Without word, Yvonne opens the door to Zayne’s office with you in tow. Zayne looks at you, surprised.
“Dr. Zayne, your wife is here to see you.”
The word resonates underneath his ribcage where his heart is.
“I see that. Thank you for escorting her, Yvonne.”
Yvonne smiles. “No worries. I’ll make sure you two are undisturbed for the time being so please take some time to relax.”
Before she can turn to leave, you give Yvonne a crushing hug. “Thank you for your hard work! Don’t push yourself okay?”
Yvonne lets out a laugh and Zayne smiles a little, used to your familiarity and affection. With that, Yvonne turns to leave with one final nod, shutting the door behind her. He hears a silent click of the lock before you turn again to face him, a familiar playfulness in your eyes.
“Husband,”
Zayne chuckles. “Wife,”
You grin at him crookedly before approaching him behind his desk, bending down to kiss him chastely. Zayne reciprocates, warm hand on your waist.
“I brought you something to eat when you take your break later.”
“Is that the reason for your unexpected visit?”
“Well, it’s not the only one,” You say. You place said meal on an empty space on Zayne’s desk before plopping yourself into his lap without asking. Zayne laughs under his breath as you turn yourself to the side to see him easier. He puts his hand on your lower back as you look at him. “Are you curious?”
“Not particularly. I figure you’ll tell me anyways, though.”
You huff. “See now I don’t want to tell you. But I’m not mean unlike someone, so I will.”
Zayne makes a soft noise in the back of his throat, aimlessly drawing patterns onto your back. “Mm,”
“Well, I went into today and there weren’t any major incidents. I was on desk duty but it was mostly just reports and paperwork. I missed you, so I thought if I finished my work early—I could see you.”
Zayne barely suppresses a smile. “So your hard work was for me?”
You nod at him, peering down at him from your lashes. “Uh-huh. I’ve been cleared for the whole day. I want to spend it with you.”
“I’m at the office all day, my love. I don’t know if I can take off for you.”
You shake your head. “I know that, silly. But, well, I thought maybe I could just…sit in your office while you worked?”
He stares at you. “I work very late tonight. You’re aware of this, yes?”
You crinkle your nose. Fussy, Zayne thinks. “Of course I know. But,” You smooth your hand down the lapel of his lab coat. “I missed you, you know? I just want to be in your space.”
“With how much we’ve been in each others space recently, I figured you were going to get sick of me.” Zayne replies dryly.
Your eyes are almost wet with their sincerity. “I could never get sick of you.”
“What a doting wife I have.” Zayne teases. You smack his chest lightly.
“Quit it. I’m being vulnerable. Is it okay? Promise I’ll be on my best behavior.”
Zayne pretends to think about it.
He hums. “I’m unsure of how trustworthy such a promise is.”
Your frown deepens, face puffing up. “Very trustworthy, okay? I’m a very reputable source. Don’t be rude.” You huff at him before continuing. “So? Can I stay?”
“Did you really think I would say no?”
You shrug. “Honestly, maybe.”
“How silly of you.” Zayne replies. You let out a playful scoff.
“I don’t mind if you stay, though I won’t be able to entertain you.” Zayne hums after some time.
“That’s okay. I’d be fine just taking a nap on your couch while you worked and I brought stuff to do,” You nudge yourself close to his neck and take a deep breath. “…Just wanna be with you.”
“I see,” Zayne hums. “It’s fine with me,”
You smile at him sincerely. “Yay,”
“You’re so excited,”
“Well, yeah.” You fidget in his lap. Zayne pauses, staring at you, overwhelmed.
“Is there something you want to say?” Zayne asks. You startle a bit, biting the inside of your cheek. Deciding on something, though Zayne isn’t sure what. Your eyes flicker up to meet his, steeling yourself.
“I don’t want to disturb your work but I don’t really want you to get up. In fact…I would like to be even closer,” You clarify.
Zayne laughs under his breath. “Is that so? Did you have an idea on how you’d like to go about that?”
You give him a look before getting off his lap and tugging him by his sleeve. Zayne stands without protest, letting you guide him to the couch in his office without another word. Used to your antics tenfold by now, he does it all without question. You turn him to be facing you before placing both hands on his shoulders and pushing him down to sit on the couch.
Zayne watches you, amused as you look at him contentedly and once again crawl into his lap. Straddling him instead of just sitting, you wrap your arms around his neck.
Pleased with your choice, you look down at Zayne with cat-like satisfaction. He almost forgets how sweet he finds you until you do something like this and have him wrapped around your fingers twice over. Zayne peers at you from underneath his lashes.
“Close enough for you?” He murmurs.
You grin at him, suddenly cheerful. You nod enthusiastically. “Mhm,”
“And how long were you planning on staying like this?” Zayne asks, not worried about it either way.
You pout at him. “Am I under a strict time limit?”
Zayne glances at the digital clock in his office. There’s nothing urgent on his plate. At least, not urgent enough for him to turn down your bids for affection. He looks back at you and shakes his head.
“Not particularly,”
“Then,” You lean forward, resting more of your weight on Zayne and pressing your face to his shoulder and neck. He puts his hands on your waist as you nestle yourself close to him. “Hold me for a little bit, doc. Somehow going back to work is lonely now,”
Zayne doesn’t say anything, but he knows what you mean. It’s silly, isn’t it? He spent all that time with you and he lives with you. But he misses you all the time for a reason he doesn’t really understand.
Zayne hums, rubbing your back as you settle yourself against him with pure intentions. After four years together, he knows the way you like to show love and receiving. At home, in public - Zayne has come to expect this of you in one way or another. Your eagerness to touch him and show skinship familiar.
It’d been hard to adjust to at first. Early in your relationship, he even expressed some level of discomfort with the constancy of your touch. It took him two weeks to retract it. Now he finds himself a little worried when you don’t.
You melt into him like this. Your breath is soft and calm against his neck, silent as his hands run over your spine and back soothingly. Heart beats syncing, Zayne silently enjoys the comfort you offer him. It calms him, settles the feeling of discontent always lingering in the back of his mind.
He feels you shift, your voice small against his shoulder. “You make me really happy. Thanks for marrying me,”
It hits him all at once with startling clarity each time he remembers. Like having an epiphany each time, despite there being nothing new. He loves you. Adores you so wholly he doesn’t know what to do with himself when you’re around.
You’re his wife. Sweet, capable, charming. He takes in a deep inhale of you, the soft floral notes of your perfume making him lightheaded.
“You shouldn’t thank me for that,” He says - voice filled to the brim with vulnerability. “I wanted that from the start,”
I wanted you from the start, he thinks.
You pull back enough to look at each other. With watery eyes and a full smile, you and Zayne hold each others gaze in silence for a long while. Unabashed affection, joy and amusement color your expression into something tangible - resonating deep behind his ribs.
A sudden feeling of contentment washes over him. Without ceremony, his hand finds the nape of your neck and pulls you close to him - your mouths meeting in a deep kiss. Zayne can’t mask his emotions, his desire for you as your lips press together.
Lust overwhelms him as you return it. Even with just lips and the barely there nudge of teeth - everything is laid out bare. His wife whom he adores, his partner and companion, his beloved. Everything worth living for starts and ends with you.
He almost feels possessed. The sudden, incessant urge to hold you washes over his mind and clouds his thinking and suddenly he’s kissing you too deep and—
“Zayne?”
You pull away from him surprised. Breathless. Zayne feels himself blush all the way up to his ears, besides himself in how easily he lost control. His voice is hoarse.
“…I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me,” Zayne says, clearing his throat. A grin splits your face and you smile at him.
You run your hands down his chest. “Well whatever it was…could you try and find it again? I’ve always wanted to have sex in your office.”
He looks at you incredulously and you laugh, leaning in, noses brushing. “What? You don’t want to?”
“My love,” He warns, gently. You pout at him.
“Aw, c’mon. You really don’t want to? Not even a little?”
“It’s the middle of the workday.” He reasons.
You frown. “So you would’ve taken it further if it wasn’t?”
He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose before opening his eyes to glance at you.
A mistake on his part. Your expression is coy, playful—seductive to him in that effortless, natural way that makes him feel more animal than human. With batted lashes and a full pout, you tilt your head and give him a challenging glance.
You smile again, lips twitching. More fox then cat. “What? No dice?”
“You’ve really got a knack for getting under my skin,” He says, half-entertaining the idea. His eyes skirt down the trail of your neck, stopping at your cleavage. “Did you plan this? Is that why you locked my door when you came in?”
You shake your head in earnest. “I planned the cuddling. The low-cut top was cause I thought they were sitting nice today.”
Zayne feels his face warm at you noticing his leering. You give him a knowing look but don’t press it.
Before he can say anything more, he feels you shift in his lap. You drop your weight onto him again, rocking your hips over the outline of his cock tucked into his slacks, shuddering visibly. Zayne swallows a groan, his hands on your hips in a weak attempt to dissuade you from moving.
Your voice is hot, honeyed as you keep it close. You lick and kiss against the shell of his ear before tugging softly on the lobe. “Would you like to hear your wife say please?”
Zayne shudders. He can feel you grin against his ear. Your voice grows softer. “My husbands a good man, see? He wouldn’t neglect his wife when she’s feeling all lonely. That’s why I married him after all.”
You peer at Zayne through your lashes with doe eyes. A look like you know you’ve got him—hook line and sinker. And you do. Completely and utterly.
“You wouldn’t do that to me,” You murmur pulling back only to touch your forehead to his, lips brushing. “Right?”
Zayne makes a noise before his hands find your nape again, pulling you close to him. He kisses you fervently, deep and trembling. Inhaling a sharp breath, trying to stagnate the desire that keeps welling up inside of him. He’s half-hard just hearing you refer to yourself that way. The words feel weightless, pleasant against his skin. His wife.
He pulls away with a hard breath. “You’re so cunning.”
You grin. “You love me,”
He scoffs as you take off his glasses and put them on the table behind you, returning to him with a playful smile. Like a fires lit underneath him, Zayne pulls you into a kiss all over again.
This time hotter, heavier, unabashed. His breathing shallows as your mouths move together, Zayne licking into it with a kind of desire he so easily forgets. Your hands make quick work of the rest of him. Nimble fingers loosening his tie and unbuttoning the buttons of his dress shirt until his neck and chest are exposed. You rock your hips against him unthinkingly, chasing a subconscious pleasure.
Always pleasant, always capable—the thing that drives Zayne up a wall around you most often is how needy you get when you’re itching for him to fuck you. Your openness about your desires isn’t something Zayne could replicate for himself even if he tried at his whole life. Yet you do it with ease. Seduce and temp him with nothing but a wispy look and playful words - unashamed.
It’s changed him. Being provoked that way gets something in him burning hot. Claws its way up his throat, blood pumping in his veins. Makes him feel human as he tastes his own heartbeat from how loud it pounds.
Do you know what you do to him? Will you ever understand?
Or maybe you provoke him this way because you know it all too well.
Either way, he falls into you with ease. Scarred hands travel underneath the hem of your blouse - squeezing your sides as his hand reaches around to unclasp your bra in one go. Clothes come off in willful tugs, pulling away from kissing only to undress each other. Zayne peels you out of your top and helps you strip him out of his coat and work clothes - unbuttoning them for you as your lips meet over and over again.
He just can’t get enough of you. He feels content only when it’s all off. When he can feel the familiar softness of your breasts push up against him - nipples hardening and brushing against his skin in your arousal. You kiss like that with your arms around his neck, grinding on each other frantically.
This must be what people mean about being newlyweds. Despite everything you’ve done together, he still feels like he’s aching for you. He’s so hard it hurts, breathing hard into your mouth as you rut against him.
“My love,” He shivers, hands gripping your hips tight. “Fuck,”
“You’re so hard,” You mumble, breathless.
“Whose fault would that be.” He shoots back. You smile against his lips, kissing him.
“Sorry,” You say, dragging out the syllables. “Wanna feel it in me,”
Zayne huffs under his breath, moving down to kiss your jawline all the way down to your neck. He can feel the warmth of your skin under his lips as he leaves them, hot and open mouthed all the way down to your clavicle. His tongue traces against your collarbone before he moves his head down further. He bites down gently on the soft skin and traces indents with his tongue. Avoids where you want him on purpose, just to hear the pitchy little whine you’ve learned so well. A practiced, wordless plea you’ve learned to do when you want something.
Your hands find his hair, fingers carding through dark strands - pulling him closer. Zayne has both of his hands on your back as he grants you the mercy of his mouth. Sucking and licking on hardened buds, pleased to watch goosebumps appear on your skin. You moan soft and Zayne pulls away, using his free hand to cup your face. He presses his thumb to your lip.
“Don’t be noisy. Bite me if you feel like you can’t hold it,”
Your mouth closes around his thumb quickly, eyes lidded. You act on instinct, sucking softly with fluttering lashes. Zayne pauses to watch you. Roused by the sweetness of it.
“I said bite,” Zayne says with no malice. A hoarse quality to his voice as he watches you take it further, blinking up at him.
You pull off and Zayne rubs spit soaked digit against your lips. Leaning into his palm, you bat your eyes at him. Zayne stares at you for a long while, entranced.
“What a face you’re making,” Zayne murmurs. “Is that kind of expression you show your husband?”
You shiver, nodding your head. Eyes glazed over. The corners of his lips twitch.
“How filthy,” He adds, voice filled to the brim with unmistakable affection.
You moan something unintelligible before you can string together a sentence. Your words are slurred when you speak. “Please fuck me,”
Zayne hums. “Sit still and don’t fuss.”
Another sound leaves your lips that Zayne quiets with a kiss. He helps you off his lap making you sit on the couch in his office - pushing his coffee table back just slightly as he kneels between your legs. Without word, he loops his fingers into the waistband of your pants and pulls everything off in one go. You shift, helping shimmy them off until you’re left with nothing but your shoes and socks.
Zayne nudges your thighs open as you rest your calves on his shoulders.
Most times, he slows down. Takes his time in giving your pussy the love and attention it deserves by virtue of being his. Kisses and licks until you’re melted into your mattress and too weak to pry him off.
But you’re running on borrowed time. He presses his lips to your clit politely before licking along your slit from the bottom up, flicking against the bundle of nerves on the way up. You gasp over him, your hand slapped over your mouth as your whole body trembles from the sudden shock of pleasure.
Zayne knows your body like the back of his hand. Knows each and every part it so devotedly, inside and out. He’s your physician, your husband, your lover. Everything there is to know, each place where you feel pleasure most strongly - Zayne could navigate it in the dark. He could make you cum with his eyes closed - nothing but the hands he’s spent his whole life training to guide him through it. He knows your body well enough to draw your pleasure out—and most times he likes to take it slowly.
It’s his prerogative. He’s unskilled when it comes to verbal language, but body language—action, is a tool he’s been learning to wield his whole life. Sex is one of the few ways Zayne can tell you his feelings in detail. Make you understand at which level you occupy his mind. Taking you apart like unraveling a thread of yarn, until you’re nothing but soft threads between deft fingers. Zayne never gets sick of it. If he doesn’t have to rush in making love to you, then he won’t.
Over time though, he’s come to appreciate this aspect too. Carnality bleeding through his actions, a desire to take instead of give. It’s not bad to indulge like this from time to time.
That is, it feels good seeing just how easily can rip an orgasm out of you. His tongue is precise as it laps at your clit, sucking gently in the way he knows you like. You throb under it, waves of wetness and arousal combining with spit and slicking his chin.
You’re trembling above him. Eyes squeezed shut as Zayne eats you out viciously, in the way only a man whose studied you thoroughly could do. He can hear the muffled gasps against your hand and it pleases him. Itches something deep and dark inside of him he rarely entertains.
Your free hand pulls at his hair in silent warning. But Zayne can feel your cunt pulse in his mouth long before you tell him. You cum hard, thighs squeezing his head. Your back arches up as a sharp groan cuts through the silence, one you can’t hold in no matter how hard you try. You cum in Zayne’s mouth easily, more quickly than you can make sense of it.
And while you’re still trembling, your pussy still fluttering - he gathers cum and sticky threads of arousal onto the pad of his fingers and pushes in.
Your eyes go wide, a silent protest that amuses him just a little.
You open up for him beautifully after one orgasm. You’re so wet, so aroused it barely takes him any effort to get himself inside of you down to knuckle. He adds another one when the resistance fades and stops after he can get three in without remarkable effort. When you’re stretched around all three, he curls the digits up and rubs ruthlessly against your gspot. All while fucking them in and out of you.
“Zayne,” You whimper. He almost retracts. Or he considers it, at least. But before he can show you any mercy, you’re wetting his fingers again from sheer arousal. The room fills with the sticky sound of your cunt flooding just for him.
You’re soaking wet by the time Zayne is finished with you. His fingers are dripping as he gives you a moment to catch your breath. Your legs are twitching when he stands up, waiting for you to come back to your senses.
When you do, you sit up and put your hands right on the waistband of his slacks, undoing his belt and zipper before pulling his cock. Zayne looks at you, halfway between amused and surprised. You make a move to take him into your mouth but Zayne cups your jaw - holding it.
“Aren’t you being greedy needing both holes filled? I thought you wanted me to fuck you,”
“You can get it up again,”
Zayne makes a face at you. “Pick one.”
“But—“
“Later,” Zayne assures, amused when you pout. “For now pick one,”
You pull away from him as silent indication of your desire. Zayne sits back on the couch besides you and you crawl over to his lap in the same position you were in before - straddling him. With both hands on your hips, he guides you to be right over his cock. Your pussy is warm, soft as it pressed against the hard shape as you rock yourself gently.
Zayne kisses your temple sweetly, the words coming out with overwhelming affection. “Good girl,”
“You’re more smug than usual,” You complain.
“My wife is acting a bit pampered so,” Zayne rubs the head of his cock through slick folds. “As a husband I feel accomplished. Something of that nature.”
You make a little noise of disapproval as you bury your face into Zayne’s shoulder.
Zayne pushes the head of his cock into you with ease. It’s hot. Sticky warmth envelops him, a groan leaving his lips as you whimper against the column of his throat. He can feel your pussy stretch around him. You’ve taken him in so many times but it never stops feeling so perfect, so good. You stretch to take it like you’re made for him, sinking down on his length so easily.
“You’re so big,”
He groans as you your cunt swallows him up, inch by inch until he bottoms out completely. He can feel your thighs shaking. He rocks his hips slightly to adjust you to the size before fucking you again in a shallow gesture. You manage to bite down any noise, still in the phase of slight pain before pleasure.
But it doesn’t take long for it to shift. He can feel it. Hear it in your voice as soft whimpers spill from your lips. Your walls cling to him like a vice, silken and slick.
“Please move,” You whine. “Please,”
So Zayne moves. Or rather, he moves you. Both hands your hips gripped tight enough to bounce you on the length of his cock with some intentional effort as you have both arms wrapped around his shoulders. He can feel your voice reverberate in his skin as he fucks up into you. You feel so good it’s beyond his rational understanding. No matter how many times he’s been inside you, he’s in awe of just how good you can make him feel without effort.
The couch creaks as your hips meet. Zayne thrusts right into your sweet spot. He can tell how good you’re feeling from the way your teeth sink into his shoulder - a bite mark forming in the skin of his shoulder as he fucks you.
The room soon fills with the sound of the wet messy sound of Zayne stretching your pussy open, balls smacking hard against your ass and leaving no room for plausible deniability. He tries to maneuver it well enough to be more quiet, but you’re so wet around him it wouldn’t matter. Soon enough, his hips and mind give into the pleasure.
“Touch yourself for me,” Zayne huffs.
You pull away from him, your teeth pushing into your lip as your hand reaches between bodies.
The hand you wear your wedding ring on. The other one occupied trying to keep you upright. Zayne’s eyes laser in on it effortlessly.
He thinks it again. His wife. Evidence of himself on you. His cock twitches so hard he tries not to cum in you right then.
But Zayne is a good husband so he waits. Waits until your pussy tightens in just the right way that tells him your close.
“C-cumming,” You whine. “I’m—“
Zayne groans as you cum around him one more time, squeezed tight. He follows you seconds after, unable to hold himself back but determined to fuck you through your high anyway. He fucks you until it passes for the both of you, thick ropes of cum painting your insides white.
You both lay in the afterglow exhausted. You’re silent for a long while before he hears you giggling next to him.
“I love you,” You hum, content and blissful and sweet all over. “Can we stay like this for a bit longer?”
Where words fail him, actions never do. He holds your hand and kisses the ring on your finger quietly, his head resting on your shoulder. “I guess it won’t hurt.”