#a wife for thor pt03
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A Wife for Thor Pt.03
10/21/2020
Garden of Delights
Pairing: King!Thor x Reader Word Count: 5,411
Warnings: angst, jealousy, talks of death, talk of sickness, infant sickness, neglect, fluff
A/N: As I said, writing itself right now. lol I’m not really sure how long this story will be. I have the basic premise set and a small plot, but if I choose to make this around the size of Pseudo Princess, I’ll have to come up with a bigger plot than the simple one I’ve got. Anywho, I hope you enjoy this chapter! I know I certainly loved writing it. If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo
Seriously, Thor doesn’t reblog as easily as Bucky or Steve on tumblr, so I TRULY appreciate it.
Please do not RESPOST any of my works on other sides or blogs.
REBLOGS always welcome!
You’re still laughing gently, hiding your chewing behind your hand.
“Stop.” You plead, looking across the table at Thor.
Both of you seated on opposite heads of the table. To your left is Loki, smirking with no shame at the stories just relayed. To your right is Brunnhilde, sipping her wine…well, guzzling would be more apt.
She’s teetering left and right, elbow on the table as she shakes her head at Loki across from her.
They lock eyes and Loki scoffs, “Don’t pretend as if you didn’t want to stab him too when you first met him.”
“I never said I didn’t!” She argues, plopping her glass down a little too hard and the glass makes a loud clink that draws everyone’s gaze.
“Why did you want to stab him?” You ask her, reaching for your own glass of regular wine. Thor had promised that you didn’t want to try the Asgardian mix.
“You won’t wake for a week. Trust me, Your Highness.” He’d been super proper, and it was a little annoying, but you understand why he’s being so careful. He wants to impress everyone, especially the two who sit beside him.
To his left sits a woman, absolutely drop dead gorgeous with creamy moon skin and raven hair. She’s certainly one to watch out for as Brunnhilde had said.
She hasn’t smiled once since she gave you a small stiff grin as Thor had introduced you.
Even now she watches you, her hand resting on the table, a little too close to Thor’s hand for comfort.
Her fingers seem to be inching their way towards his and you feel the beginning bite of fangs in your mouth at the thought of her hating you because she wants Thor for herself.
This also makes you sad because you don’t meet women who are as unique as she, but Lady Sif has drawn a line and you find yourself on one side with Thor while she watches from the other, despising your very existence for taking the man she covets.
On Thor’s right is a man with his dark hair in dreads. Beautiful amber eyes stand bright against his dark skin, and the luxurious gray armor he wears, sits pretty on his muscular form. To his own right is a sword, placed between him and Loki.
He looks less amused by the story Loki and Thor just told them but when he meets your gaze, his eyes betray an amusement. Heimdall, protector of the Asgardian borders, has a soft spot for his King and his friends.
“To put it short,” Brunnhilde begins, popping her lips as she lifts her wine to her lips again, eyes locked on Thor. “He’s a bit of a doofus.”
Thor’s burst of booming laughter in infectious and you laugh too, just as Loki, Brunnhilde, and even Heimdall chuckles along gently.
Lady Sif is the only one who doesn’t laugh but merely smiles as she look at Thor as he shakes his head overwhelmed with amusement.
You know what she sees, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes are endearing. The sparkle of his one blue eye. The loveliness of his golden bearded face all stretched into a stunning smile.
“I am not a doofus!” He protests, then clears his throat and taps his fingers against the table as he makes his face as serious as he can manage. “What way is that to speak of your King?”
Brunnhilde throws her head back outrageously tickled by his words.
“You may be my King, but that does not make you any less of a doofus than before you earned your crown.” She throws at him and Thor laughs again, shaking his head as you quietly chuckle with them, loving this exchange and the ease at which they seem to be.
“What about that made you want to stab him?” You ask her, everyone’s gaze drawn to you and Lady Sif’s smile vanishing.
“Well, you’ll just have to wait and see.” Brunnhilde teases. “My condolences. Being married to this buffoon will be a true test of your character.”
Although her words are said as a joke, your heart gives a small lurch as you meet Thor’s gaze again, and this time he holds it, his own face falling a little to only a soft smile as both of you replay the conversation in the hallway once again.
“I’ll just have to try my best.” You tell her, a small shrug of your shoulder. “He seems alright so far. No major red flags. Besides the obvious.”
Thor’s smile is completely gone now, his brow furrowed as he continues to stare at you, his breathing a little deeper. A little more labored.
You’re nervous as you speak, voice shaking a little as your heart pounds and aches.
“What’s that?” Loki asks, also serious suddenly, picking up on the tension between you and Thor.
It might seem like you’re letting it go on too long on purpose, using it to make everyone uncomfortable, but really you just have to find the strength to speak as your nerves begin to get the better of you.
“Well,” You begin, voice still shaking. “I mean, look at him.”
And they all do.
“He’s also been really nice to me.” You admit, because aside from the unanswered question in the hallway, Thor has treated you respectfully, politely, with genuine concern and compassion…so far. “I think the deal was that I’m supposed to marry him and it’s alright if I don’t love him but, how long can I really resist?”
Brunnhilde scoffs, purging the atmosphere for everyone else of what you’re saying allowing them to relax and laugh at your strange way of telling them you find Thor attractive.
“At least your worries about your wife not liking you are assuaged.” Heimdall claps Thor on the shoulder, visibly shaking his body, but Thor’s intense gaze is on you alone.
Swallowing hard, you reach for your wine glass and take a deep drink, so conscious of Thor’s stare.
Dinner goes on just as it began and before long, Thor is back to laughing and chatting while your own attention is given to Loki and Heimdall whenever he remembers something he’s wants to ask.
When all plates are cleaned and glasses sit empty, dinner officially over, Sif turns hard eyes on you.
“So, I hear that you don’t have parents.” The interest is forced. She couldn’t care less about you or your life.
“Yeah,” You nod. “Um, they died a few months after I was born. Plane accident.”
“I’m sorry to hear it.” Heimdall laments kindly.
Beside you, Brunnhilde has her head in her hand, elbow on the table, eyes shut and mouth slightly open.
She’d just been talking so this is new.
“Thank you, but I don’t remember them. My only sorrow comes from never having a family.” You admit. “I grew up in a school—well, really it was an orphanage, but it was run much like a private school with uniforms that the government provided along with a minimal education. I attended until I became a legal adult and my lawyer, came to give me my inheritance.”
“Why weren’t you adopted?” Sif asks, her voice full of well-hidden venom that you can hear only because you know to look for it, her hand is inching towards Thor’s again and while he’s not your husband yet, the urge to stake claim over it is strong.
The way she asks also makes you feel as if she’s waiting to see exactly what is wrong with you. What can she use against you?
You smile, a smirk really, knowing what she’s up to.
You’re not unkind, but you bristle when attacked and Sif is making it easy for you to be defensive.
Searching within yourself for the strength to keep yourself calm, you take a deep breath before you answer.
“I wasn’t a healthy baby. I was sick, all the time. There was even a night my fever became so high that the doctors were sure that I would be left with brain damage. So, they watched me grow, expecting defects, but I got sick less and less the older I got.
“My speech and motor functions were top tier, and my learning capabilities were also fine.”
Everyone is silent, watching you with somber expressions. You’re a little on edge with them paying you such close attention, but this was the point of the dinner. To get to know each other.
“Unfortunately, potential parents were warned about the possible challenges I might face as I grew older, which put many of them off. While they wanted an infant, they didn’t want one that was broken.”
“I’m sorry for their ignorance.” Heimdall offers. “Clearly you grew up to be a lovely woman, but even if you had not, I’m saddened by their lack of compassion.”
You can only smile at him, having come to terms with the facts of your childhood long ago.
“Anyway, that’s why no one adopted me. So, a true family is something I’ve never had. I’m…” You blink, wondering how honest you want to be here. “I think it’s one of the things I’m looking forward to most. After tonight, I’m more convinced than before that this is will be a good environment to build a family. You’re all so nice.”
Loki, Brunnhilde—who’s awake again—and Heimdall are smiling. Lady Sif sits stiffly, her hands pulled onto her lap as she keeps her eyes locked on the empty plate in front of her.
Your heart stutters as you meet Thor’s eyes again. Staring deep into the single blue orb still locked on you.
“As conflicted as my past with the people in this room has been, I promise you, that is the right decision.” Loki assures you, a peaceful smile on his face that somehow comforts any misgivings you’ve been having.
At least about the people you’ll be around daily.
Your conversation with Thor in the hallway is a different matter, and one that you really want to finish.
“Well,” Brunnhilde slaps her hands on the table, rising to her feet with a little sway. “I think that’ enough pleasant conversation for me. I am tired-”
“And drunk.” Loki adds.
“-And that.” She agrees. “I need some sleep. So, Y/N, Your Royal Highness this has truly been a pleasure. I will be by in the morning to see you about wedding arrangements. Not too early though, you know—”
She steps out from in front of her chair, already walking towards the door large double doors.
Heimdall rises too, then Loki, Thor, and Lady Sif.
You stand last, fixing your dress as you do, making sure it isn’t stained. Luckily, it isn’t.
“This has indeed been illuminating.” Heimdall agrees, moving over to you to take your hand and press a chaste kiss to your knuckles. “Your Highness, it has been a true pleasure. I look forward to getting better acquainted with you.”
Loki is smiling, standing by the door but then he turns his eyes on Lady Sif.
“A word, Sif?” She looks at him, freezing beside Thor where she’d already begun to take his arm to pull his attention. “It won’t take long.”
With a sigh, she gives you one look before moving out the door in a huff, Heimdall following. Loki gives Thor a nod, something silent passes between them. With one final nod to you as well, Loki leaves.
“I really am very sorry that Volstagg, Fandral, and Hogun could not join us. Unfortunately, the Warrior’s Three are highly sought throughout the galaxies.” Thor says, moving towards you with calm slow steps. “They should be back for the wedding though.”
“I’m excited to meet them. Everyone was so kind.” You observe. “Well, almost.”
Thor looks confused, stopping just at the corner of the table beside you, his fingers nervously tracing the shape of the edge.
“Seriously? You didn’t notice?” You shake your head, somehow finding it funny. “I think Brunnhilde might be right about you being a doofus.”
Thor laughs once, blows a quick raspberry in denial at your conclusion. “Why do you say that?”
“Thor, Lady Sif hates me.” You point out, it’s so obvious to you and was obvious to Loki too at least.
“No.” Thor shakes his head.
“She kept trying to grab your hand! She kept glaring daggers at me.” You sigh. “She’s in love with you.”
“Sif is like a sister.” Thor tells you, as if this negates her feelings as well.
“She’s still in love with you.”
Thor sighs. “I’ll speak with her.”
“Don’t bother. I think Loki’s beating you to it.”
“Walk with me?” He asks, and your heart goes into sudden arrest.
Fingers nice and tingly, you swallow the lump in your throat. “What?”
“I would like it very much if you walked with me for a while. The night is not over yet, and despite the exhaustion of my court, it’s not actually that late yet. The gardens my people have cultivated for the palace are beautiful. I’d love to show them to you.” He offers his hand, waiting patiently for you to take it but you can only gawk at him.
“Isn’t it cold outside?” You ask, on edge.
Thor drops his hand. “Oh, right. Estrid?”
She’s already waiting by the door, auburn hair looking slightly disheveled.
“Ah, Estrid.” Thor smiles, big dopey grin on his face. “Oh, your hair…”
He gestures and she quickly fixes it.
“I’m sorry, Your Majesty.” She gasps.
“No, no. Just looked funny.” He eases her, and she calms instantly, smiling bashfully. “Can you fetch Her Highness a jacket?”
Estrid turns and rushes from the room but returns only seconds later with a long navy cloak. It isn’t a jacket, but it will match your dress nicely.
“That’s not a jacket.” You observe, feeling self-conscious.
Thor takes it from her and holds it open for you. There’s a clasp around the throat that will sit against your collarbone. “It’s a cloak. It’ll keep you just as warm as a jacket.”
You turn for him and he slips it over your shoulders, holding it until you turn to face him then he quickly fastens the clasp.
“Better?” He checks, fixing it around you.
You can’t find your voice to answer. Heart is racing. Damn him. This isn’t going to work if he keeps being sweet.
He offers you his arm and you hesitate, timidly wrapping your hand around the lower part of his large bulky bicep again.
“Wonderful.” He smiles wide. “Estrid, Her Highness will be in later, please prepare her bedroom so that she might go to sleep as soon as we return.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” She curtsies quickly then turns and rushes out to get your room ready.
“She doesn’t have to do that.” You tell him, turning to watch her flee. “I can make my own bed and stuff.”
“It’s her job.” Thor tells you. “Will you take it from her?”
You think about it carefully, and despite the fact that Thor is a warrior and has travelled around the world sleeping in terrible places with no comforts at times, you understand in this moment that having servants is something he’s used to.
“No.” You realize and make a mental note to let these people do their work without putting up too much of a fight.
Thor leads you off down a side door into another dark wooden hallway with beautiful cobbled floors beneath your feet with a long carpet running its length. No one seems to be walking around in this hallway which makes you think it’s more secluded.
“Did David tell you I like flowers?” You check, wondering how much information Thor has about you.
“No? I didn’t know that though. That makes this even better.” He realizes.
You lapse into silence, hand trembling around his bicep as your mind replays the last two hours, picking apart every moment, every word shared, and every lingering look Thor had given you.
“Did you enjoy dinner?” Thor asks, his voice much lower, quieter.
It’s an intimate volume and it startles you, giving you a little bit of a delay in your response.
You meet his eyes and he’s staring right at you, soft smile stretched across his lips. It’s more a peaceful expression, calming.
And yet, it has the opposite effect on you, and you gasp a little as you catch your breath. Your heart is pounding through your ribcage.
“It was good.” You nod, looking towards the large stone archway up ahead. One of the doors stands open, the Norwegian night beyond.
You can see a splash of beautiful green beyond and can already hear the soft tinkling of flowing water from what is probably a fountain.
“And the conversation?” He asks, tilting his head to one side as he gives it better thought. “Aside from Sif.”
“They were all super nice, Thor.” You smile, honestly grateful to Loki, Brunnhilde, and Heimdall for their warm welcome. “I wish Lady Sif had been more open. She’s been fighting at your side for a long time, right?”
“She has.” Thor nods, as the two of you break through the doorway and you’re greeted with an elegant garden larger than even the circular room you’d first met with Thor in.
Your jaw drops and you stop walking, gaping at the collection of flora and fauna each piece delicately pruned and cared for. There are certainly several small fountains, dark gray with small underwater lights to provide the garden with diffused illumination.
Despite the chilly night, the garden makes you feel warm with flowers of every color. Roses in white and red, lilies with stunning white, carnations in pink, wine, cream, yellow, and purple. Throughout the roses are smaller pink flowers you don’t know but they’re adorable and the fragrance in this garden is intoxicating.
“Wow.” You whisper.
“You like it?” Thor asks, smiling a little wider as he waits for you to take your long look.
“It’s beautiful.” You nod.
“Come.” He pulls you along gently, urging you to walk again.
You follow, your hand sturdier around his arm. “Do you like gardens too?”
Thor nods. “My mother used to cherish her garden. When we arrived, it was the first thing I had commissioned. They were finished building it before they even finished the palace.”
“She passed?” You wonder, looking up at the echo of sadness in his eyes.
“A while ago.” Thor nods. “I miss her counsel. She was always the voice of reason and logic in my life.”
“I’m sorry.” You offer, hoping it’s a comfort.
You reach up with your other hand, wrapping it around his arm too.
He looks down at you, eyes searching, confused? But his smile never wavers. “Thank you.”
The two of you lapse into silence again, you busy looking at every flower you pass in admiration, Thor lost in thought.
“I’m going to miss my herb garden.” You lament with a sigh.
“You had an herb garden?” Thor wonders, turning his attention back to you.
“Just a small one. I only had some rosemary and thyme. I wanted to grow some mint, parsley, basil, and dill but I didn’t get the chance.”
Thor stops walking, gently shakes his arm to make your hand slide down along his forearm. As it falls, you takes hold of it.
You’re startled, but you don’t pull away, your mind devouring the information you can gleam from this moment as quickly as it can.
His hand is warm. No…it’s hot. Like he’s had it shut for a long time. The skin is a little rough, calloused, but not uncomfortable. You can just imagine the battles he must have fought. His hand is so big. Fingers wrapped softly around yours. He gives it a squeeze and you feel it in your core that this isn’t going at all how you planned.
You almost want to run to your room and hide under your blankets with the speed at which you can feel yourself dropping your guard to him.
The plan had been to marry him, never love him, and live your life as best you can and probably take a lover at some point. You should be able to love too.
But it isn’t supposed to be Thor. You’re not supposed to fall for him.
You remind yourself of his refusal to be honest with you. You remind yourself that his heart is already given and accepted. Jane loves him too, even if she won’t marry him to prevent him from marrying someone else.
You can understand why she can’t give up her life to take on this one. It’s a lot to ask of anyone.
It helps you grasp onto reality, to remember the conversation before dinner and his inability to commit to honesty when It comes to Jane.
“I have something to show you.” He tells you and pulls you down the length of the garden until you reach a greenhouse.
Thor releases your hand and throws the doors open before holding his hand out for you to take again.
You do, and he pulls you into the narrow but long space. Each side is lined with planter boxes, each box holds a different herb, including all of the ones you mentioned before, and some you have never seen before.
“What is this?” You gasp, reaching for a particularly strange one in a deep blue, almost black color.
“It’s the Asgardian version of lavender.” He tells you, placing his other hand over the one you’re reaching out for it with. “But it stings a little for humans to touch with bare hands. There are garden glove in the box by the door if you want to cut some for your room later. It smells wonderful. My mother used to keep some on her desk.”
“I can take some?” You gasp, turning to look up at him and he’s standing so damn close, you shrink in surprise.
“Of course.” He smiles at you, “This is your home now. Anything in these gardens is yours to have.”
He’s so fucking nice! You hate him.
You’re too stunned by his proximity to speak, hands twitching under his own. He seems to realize what’s got you tongue-tied because he takes a step and one hand back but keeps hold of the other.
“I wanted to talk with you, it’s why I’ve brought you here.” He pulls you along, and you give the herb garden one final look before he shuts the doors and moves back towards the center of the garden.
There you find several white marble benches around a small manmade pond, surrounded by more flowers.
Thor leads you to one of these benches, then extends a hand towards it so that you’ll sit.
You do, nervous suddenly as he sits beside you, taking his hand back for the first time since he began to show you the garden.
“You’re making me nervous.” You admit, your mouth moving before you can stop it. Anxious is not a good state for you.
“No.” He assures you, shaking his head, full of concern. “No, please don’t be nervous. I only wanted to continue our conversation from before dinner.”
“Oh.” You nod, expecting to be denied the honesty you want.
How will you use his refusal to do it as an excuse to not fall for him if he agrees to it?
“You’re right.” He nods, turning in the seat to face you a little better, your body mirroring his.
“I am?”
“Yes.” He takes a long deep breath. “After everything that was said during dinner, after watching my friends meet with you and get to know you, I realize that you’re right in what you say. I am asking a lot from you. More than I care to admit.”
Your mouth is suddenly dry.
“Did you mean what you said?” He whispers, a trace amount of uncertainty in his deep voice.
“What did I say?” You ask, voice not as quiet but still a little breathless.
“About falling for me?”
“Oh.” Your brain goes fuzzy and your heart is probably going to burst through your chest like in that one horror movie you watched as a kid.
“Truth is, I chose you because you were different.” He nods. “Not, different from regular humans. Most of them are very much like you, which is great. I love humans. But compared to the other ladies that came to meet for this purpose, I…if I’d wanted someone who would turn a blind eye while I and Jane continued to see each other, then I should have chosen one of them.
“They knew what was expected, as did you, but I didn’t consider how the difference in you would affect your own responses.”
“Are you saying you don’t want me anymore?” You ask timidly, feeling a rush of emotions all mixing together, turning into confusion.
You’re almost happy that he doesn’t want you anymore. You won’t have to marry him and deal with Jane and a life of standing by watching him be with someone else while the world thinks you’re together.
Another part of you, the part that’s already out of your control—even though you’ll never admit it—can’t help but feel depressed that he’ll be married to someone else.
“No!” Thor rushes to assure you, sliding over closer so that he can take your hand again, his knee touching yours. “No, that’s not at all what I’m saying. What I’m saying is that I understand what you meant. I know why you were upset. I’m sorry that I did not consider this whole thing more carefully from your perspective.”
You feel a wave of relief and know you’re screwed. It’s already too late.
“But I need you to answer my question.” He says.
Your eyes go wide at the audacity of this man as you laugh because it’s so funny of him to need that of you when he couldn’t return the favor before. “You didn’t answer mine!”
He smiles, chuckling. “Answer mine first.”
As you consider him, blue eye staring at you with no restraint for the way his gaze makes you feel, your mood grows somber, all traces of your laugh gone.
“Yes.” You sigh. “I’ve never been in love before.”
You shrug.
“And it’s not like you’re not…I mean…You know damn well what you look like.” You growl.
Thor laughs, throwing his head back.
“And then you come in with that voice and you’re not rude or…I mean, you were a little mean with the whole asking me to put up with being married and having no love in it. Like, I get that it might be normal for royals or whatever, but I’m not really royal. I haven’t lived in a palace with servants and a crown on my head.
“I grew up in an orphanage with no friends. No one has ever loved me. My parents loved me, I think, but they died and no one has cared about me like that since. Even now, the only person on my side is David, and I know he only stuck around because he felt bad for me. He’s also getting paid by my estate, so…there’s that.
“I’m not asking you to love me. I know that you love someone else, but I was only asking for you to be open with me about it. If you want to meet Jane, fine. Meet her. But do it somewhere that I can’t see. Do it but tell me that’s where you’ll be so that even if rumors fly in my ear that Thor is meeting with his mistress, it won’t hurt as much. It won’t make me feel as stupid, because I already know that’s where you are.”
Thor’s hand over yours grows tighter, his face lamenting for who knows what reason, because you’re not in his head but you can see that he feels bad which is stupid and you hate him for it because it means he cares.
You only just met him but with every passing moment in his presence, you fall more and more. It’s not love yet. You know that. It can’t be a crush because you know him too well. You like him. You’ll admit that.
“To answer your question more clearly,” You take a deep breath, exhaling quickly to wipe away the excess of emotion that surged forward suddenly. “Yes. I meant it. I don’t love you now, but I think I could.”
Thor nods, looking down at your hand, turning it over in his own.
The silence feels endless! He won’t speak, but his thumb keeps caressing your hand and you kinda wanna bite him for it.
“If my mother were here, she’d be disappointed in me. She’d tell me that I should let go of Jane. She met her, and while she liked her but…We are clearly moving along different paths and as much as I love her, she is not the one for me. Not anymore. My mother would definitely think so.
“I think she would have really liked you.” He admits, and his words give you comfort. “She would have called me a fool to pass up such a sweet and level-headed woman.”
“I’m not that level-headed.” You confess. “I’ve got anxiety issues sometimes.”
Thor smiles.
“I think she would have been right.”
Wait, is he saying what you think he’s saying?
“I will talk with Jane tomorrow to…to break things off. It won’t be the first time for us to part ways and I think in the long run it will be better for us both.”
“Thor, you don’t have to-”
“But I do.” He nods, meeting your eyes. “I need to let go of my past to embrace my future. And that’s you and New Asgard. It’s my people.”
“I want this marriage to work.” He continues. “I chose you and I meant that choice. Out of all the women I met, your picture of an ideal marriage was the closest to mine. It would make me happy to live that life with you.”
You’re breathless, chest heaving as you struggle to find a coherent thought.
Thor seems to realize that you’re struggling because he places your hand on your lap, tapping it gently before scooting back a little to give you space.
He’s so fucking massive! How is it possible that this is seriously your life? This God will be your husband. You’re going to have his kids?!
Your cheeks burn, neck burns, ears burn, legs suddenly clenched together as the fear from before runs quickly through your mind.
They’d wanted a maiden and they got one. Will he talk about it with you later? You can’t bear to talk about it now. You’re too embarrassed and overwhelmed by what he’s saying.
“So,” He starts, rising to his feet to tower over you. Then he falls, gliding gently onto one knee before reaching into his pants to pull from his pocket a small brown pouch.
He opens it, turns it over, and into his hand tumbles a shining silver ring.
“I chose this before I knew you liked flowers but now that I know, it makes me glad I picked it.” He smiles, “It just made me think of you when I went searching so, I hope you like it.”
He grabs it with two fingers, pinching the thin band delicately to hold it upright so that you can see the stunning design. A round diamond rests in the middle, shining brilliantly at the center of what looks like a lotus flower made of smaller diamonds filling its leaves.
You hate him because you absolutely love this ring. You love the sight of him on his knee in front of you. You love the way he scoots closer so that he can hold your hand easier as he gently straightens it and presses the ring to the tip of your finger.
“Will you marry me, Y/N? Will you be my Queen?” He asks, and you’re so silent, he grows visibly nervous. “Please?”
You laugh at the hitch in his voice, the plea there.
“Yes, stupid.” You laugh again.
He chuckles as he slips the ring on your finger, then after a moment of hesitation, he hooks his hand behind your neck and pulls you down to meet his lips.
Eyes wide, heart stopped, you freeze as hot lips fry your nervous system.
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