Hmmmm... I can't pick between the prompt of someone stealing a kiss or Cullen picking out flowers for the Inquisitor. You choose!
Alistair was grinning again.
“What?” Aeryn asked through her laugh. “Is there something on my face? Have I grown a third eye?"
"Nothing,” he said. “You’re just particularly beautiful today. Glowing, one might say."
She rolled her eyes and whacked him on the arm with her hairbrush. When she stood, she had to brace herself against the table. Her back ached and she cradled her swollen belly in one arm. “I think I crossed out of the ‘beautiful’ territory when I started puking every morning.”
"I’m afraid not, my love.” He came to her side, a supportive arm around her. “I don’t think you’ll ever not be beautiful.” He blinked. “That is, you will always be beautiful.”
She gave him an exasperated sigh, rolling her eyes. He kept grinning, sneaking in to take a quick kiss from her lips before moving down to kiss the top of her belly as well.
Cullen scratched his cheek, almost glaring at the various roses. The woman asked him what he wanted and he stared at her blankly for a good minute. He wanted flowers. Plain, pretty, simple flowers. How was he supposed to know that they’re be thirty different kinds of roses and a half dozen different daisies and all this other froo-froo madness.
"I, um,” he stuttered, “That is… I’m not entirely sure…” He sighed and rubbed his neck.
“Is this for someone special?"
"I—yes.” He flushed. “Very special."
The woman tending the stall smiled as she started picking out a small bouquet. Cullen stared down at the flowers, his own smile continuing to grow.
"She’s rather amazing, actually,” he added. “I just wanted to get her something nice. Something pretty. Like her.” His cheeks burned as he paid the woman, bringing the flowers up to smell them. Soft, pleasant: perfect.
The commander spun on his heel, his heart beating painfully against his chest as he turned to see the Inquisitor’s beaming face.