they were supposed to be celebrating their anniversary why

the little things

for @fyeahspiritassassin‘s ship week - April 25: Alternative universe/timeline

The other day I heard about this couple that were celebrating their 70th wedding anniversary and they were offering Life Advice. I flip flopped between making this a modern AU or a everyone lives/post Scarif AU and I honestly don’t know which one this is but enjoy! (ft. roguejedi) 

“How long have you guys been together?” The question tumbles out of Luke’s mouth in the way such questions do: it was something that had been nagging him for a long time, but there was never the right opportunity to ask. 

Apparently, Luke thought this was the right time. He was right: he and Bodhi were effectively sprawled across the couch, Bodhi looking relaxed in what appeared to be the most uncomfortable position ever, and Luke resting on his side. 

“You could’ve asked me that,” Bodhi says, hand idly running through Luke’s hair. 

“Really?” Luke turns in his seat to look at Bodhi, then at the smiling Guardians, then back at Bodhi. “How would you know?” 

Bodhi’s eyes drift over to Chirrut, who smiles. “The Guardians’ lives… we didn’t know much about them. But something as important as a marriage… that’s hard to keep quiet.” 

“Ah, right. So how long was it?” 

“Before I was born,” Bodhi says with a smile. 

Luke’s jaw drops. “That long?” Bodhi punches him lightly as Baze chuckles. 

“I’m not that old.” 

“Thirty-three years,” Chirrut says with a smile. “If you’re counting from our legal union.” 

Baze huffs. “You make it sound like we got a fancy certificate, Chirrut.” 

Chirrut dismissively waves his hand. 

Luke’s still looking at them in awe. “That long? Man, I don’t know many people who lived much longer, much less were in relationships that long. Wow… How….?” 

“I ask myself that every day,” Baze says. Chirrut lightly punches his shoulder. “I’m kidding. I mean, the… I… I guess I followed Chirrut wherever he went and he kind of adopted me like a stray,” Baze chuckles. 

Bodhi grins. “It always looked like you were trying to keep him out of trouble.” 

“Me? Trouble?” Chirrut says incredulously, a grin blossoming across his face. 

“But seriously,” Luke interjects, “How? Do you have like, any advice for u-I-uh just any advice?” The colour rises in his cheeks. Baze pretends not to notice. 

“He infuriates me most of the time,” Baze starts, “but I like him too much to let that get to me.” 

“Not silently, though,” Chirrut says wisely. “I don’t hear the end of it.” 

“Communication,” Baze nods. “That’s where it all is.” 

“Huh,” Luke says, lost in thought. 

“Sure, the little things can get annoying. Like how Baze refuses to trust in the Force-”

“That’s a little thing?” 

Chirrut shrugs. “Like I was about to say. Don’t blow things out of proportion. The only little things you should be caring about, are the good ones.” 

“Moments like these,” Baze’s voice softens. “They’re hard to come by.” Chirrut nods. 

“You’ll appreciate them later on. When you don’t have the chance.” 

Luke’s eyes flicker over to Bodhi, the losses of their families still fresh in their minds. 

“That makes sense,” Luke says, solemn. “We-I’ll keep that in mind.” 

anonymous asked:

Can you please do a Valdaya 4 year anniversary reunion/get together, please?

He was feeling so nervous. He had no idea why. He has known this girl for four years she was his best friend maybe even more and yet he felt like a teenager boy waiting for his first date.

Zendaya was in LA, he was in LA and it’s been 4 years since they have met and they were going to celebrate.

And he wanted to impress her because maybe they could talk about them and moving further with whatever was between them.

He was supposed to pick her up from her place. He has been there before, he really liked it.

He drove there and knocked on the door. She opened it almost straight away.

“Hey.” She welcomed him with a big smile on her face.

She leaned putting her hand around his neck and kissed his cheek dangerously close to his lips.

“Hey babe.” He let himself check her out. “You look great.”

She let out a soft chuckle. “I tried, I tried. I need to finish my make up please make yourself at home.”

She winked at him and disappeared upstairs.

He sat on the couch and didn’t have to wait long before Zendaya came back.

“All right we can go.” She grabbed her keys. “Although I don’t even know where are we going.”

Val looked at her and wiggled his eyebrows. “It’s a surprise.”

“You are very mysterious lately.” Zendaya said as she closed the door behind them.

“And it will become even more surprising cause I want you to put this on.”

“A blindfold?”

“Yes please.” Val said softly.

“What are you up to Chmerkovskiy?” She said more to herself.

He walked to her and kissed her cheek. “You will see.”

They got into the car and drove off.

“Is it normal that I feel nervous?” She asked.

“No, I feel like that as well.” Val aditted.

“This feels kinda special.”

Val reached for her and and squeezed it.

“It is.”

For the rest of the drive they fell into a nice and easy converstation.

Then the car stopped.

“We are here.”

“Cool, wherever here is.” She chuckled lightly.

“Just few more moments.” Val said getting out of the car and helping Zendaya.

“Just don’t let me fall.”

He kissed her temple. “Never.”

They walked few steps. Val felt nervous not so sure of his idea anymore. What if she didn’t like it?

They reached their destination.

“Okay I am going to taka the blindfold off.”

Zendaya puffed a little bit impatiently. “Finally.”

Val just laughed as he pulled the knot and let her see where they were.

“Oh…is this?” She couldn’t finish it she was stunned.

“Yeah our old training room…and this is our table with dinner.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

“Val.” She turned to him so they were face to face. “This is amazing.” She had tears in her eyes.

“You like this?” He asked a little bit unsure.

Zendaya wrapped her hands around his neck. “I love it.” She smiled at him brightly.

“This is were everything started. Our partnership, our friendship and I hoped that maybe…” He took a deep breath.

“Maybe what?” Zendaya asked quietly.

“Maybe we could start something new…a relationship.” He looked her straight into eyes.

She gave him the warmest and breathtaking smile he has ever seen.

“I would like that.” She nodded.



Val kissed her nose making her giggle.

“Let’s start our celebration.”

“I am actually really hungry.”

“Let’s eat then.” He winked at her.

This was definitely another begining for them.

The begining of something new.

I love you for who you are (Peter Parker x Reader) (Requested)

Request: Imagine where reader has weight issues and Peter is in love with her(this was a message, so I don’t really know how to copy and paste).

‘Are you ready yet?’ Peter’s voice called. You were supposed to go out to a restaurant to celebrate your 8 months anniversary, but after staring at yourself in the mirror for half an hour, you didn’t really feel like going. You looked bad. The dress you were wearing accentuated the parts of your body that held more weight than the others, and your thighs looked extremely horrendous. What did Peter see in you that made him wanna date you? ‘[Y/N], are you ready?’ his voice was closer now. You knew he wanted to come in but didn’t because he also wanted to respect your privacy, but you also knew that he was curious about why you weren’t going out. You quickly changed into some jeans and a big t-shirt, feeling more comfortable and not so embarrassed about your weight. You finally left the room, seeing Peter wearing a tuxedo and looking handsome as ever.
‘Hey, are you ready?’ he asked, looking you up. ‘You look extremely beautiful, but we are going to a luxury restaurant and they are extremely strict with the clothing’ he said, a look of apology on his face. ‘Hadn’t you bought a stunning blue dress? I’m sure you look amazing with it’ he said, smiling at you. You couldn’t help it, and tears started to run down your face. ‘Hey, hey, have I said something wrong? If so, I’m so sorry. Oh my God, please don’t cry’ he begged, holding your cheeks in his hands.
‘It’s not you. It’s me. I-I can’t wear that dress. It makes me look fat. Even fatter than what I actually am. Why do you even love me Peter? I’m so ugly. Oh my-you pity me, don’t you? If it’s that, please tell me. I’ll understand, bu’ your words were cut by his lips pressed against your own, making you relax, focusing on the moment.
‘You are beautiful. What, you are not skinny? And what’s the problem? I love you for who you are, and to me, you are the most beautiful girl on Earth, and I love you, okay? I love you.’

Title: Late Night Visits?
Words: 850
Characters/Pairing: Tim Drake/Damian Wayne [TimDami]

“Damian, I’m really—“

“It is fine. I understand that you are dedicated to your work.”

“No, it’s not fine. Because I’m also dedicated to you. I’m sorry.”

[ prompted by replacedrobin, who wanting Tim and Damian being sweet. Uhhhhh. I hope this fits what you were looking for? aaahhh I haven’t written Tim in a few months so this was a challenge. ;U; thank you for the prompt though!! I hope you like it!! ]

“Damian? Is everything alright?” Tim asked, rubbing his tired eyes with his hand. He could hear the exhaustion in his own voice, but he nonetheless had felt a strong flicker of worry upon seeing Damian in his apartment. Had he been hurt on patrol? Wait, would he have been on patrol? God, Tim didn’t even know how late it was. In his defense, it had been a really long week.

Damian must not have been hurt that badly though, because he sighed (was that exasperation? Pity? Annoyance? Tim couldn’t tell. He was distracted by how comfy the sofa looked) and walked over to Tim, and took his briefcase from him.

“…so is that a yes?” Tim mumbled as he stifled a yawn, which earned a soft tut from Damian.

“That depends on your definition of ‘alright,’ Timothy. I have not been injured, no. But I do believe that I am a tad offended.” The Wayne answered, as he set the briefcase on the table.

Tim’s brows furrowed together. “Damian, I’m too tired for your cryptic nonsense. Just tell me why you’re here, please?”

Silence. Damian’s expression was unreadable. “We both promised we would not overwork ourselves this week. I have not patrolled in two nights as to ensure I would be capable of coming today.”

Tim stared. He was feeling more awake now, but as he tried to wrack his brain for what was supposed to be going on, he couldn’t remember.

“You were the one that insisted we do something to celebrate,” Damian prompted, but still Tim said nothing. A huff of frustration, then, “the anniversary of our relationship was today—“ he paused to glance at the clock, “—excuse me. It was yesterday. We planned to have a late dinner here at 8 o’clock, because you were unable to reschedule the W.E board meeting. I was considerate enough to put the food in your refrigerator.”

And now…now Tim knew what that note was in his partner’s voice. Bitterness. He could feel his face turning white as his brain processed this information. Damian had been waiting on Tim for nearly five hours. He had probably been really fidgety and cute like he always was when they did these kind of things, and he had probably asked Dick for advice on what to wear and had maybe even called him when Tim hadn’t shown up, and was that cologne he smelled?—Oh god. If Tim could, he would have taken a moment to appreciate how sweet this was. “Damian, I’m so sorry, it totally escaped my mind,—“ and then he started rambling.

Damian rolled his eyes and was quick to quiet Tim, when he grabbed his hand and started pulling him towards the kitchen. Before they got there, though, Damian dropped Tim’s hand in favor of pointing towards the bedroom. “You look like you are about to fall asleep on your feet, Timothy, and I will not permit you to sleep in your suit. Go change. I will prepare some of the food.”

Tim didn’t protest. He loved his suits, but also hated them. It was a complicated relationship, to say the least. He sauntered into his bedroom and tried to be fast in changing, because he had already kept Damian waiting long enough tonight.

He stepped into the kitchen, but Damian’s back was to him as he heated up some of the food. It looked untouched (it probably was).

“Damian, I’m really—“

“It is fine. I understand that you are dedicated to your work.”

“No, it’s not fine. Because I’m also dedicated to you. I’m sorry.”

Damian turned at that, but his expression was still unreadable. Silence stretched between them for a few moments, before a look of amusement appeared on his features. “Is that your backup plan for if your verbal apology is denied?”

Tim frowned. “What? I’m being serious,” he said as he glanced down at himself, “…oh.”

In his going-off-three-hours-of-sleep-in-the-past-two-days state, Tim hadn’t even noticed he had put on one of Damian’s shirts that had for one reason or another been left at his apartment.

Damian rolled his eyes, “I think you should sleep now, Timothy.”

“Come lay down with me, then. I’m sure a few extra hours of sleep wouldn’t hurt you either, Damian. Then you can give me all day tomorrow to make this up to you.” Tim requested, not caring that he sounded hopeful.

“-tt.- Fine.”

Tim smiled as he exhaled a soft sigh, because it seemed like Damian had forgiven him. He led him back into his bedroom, and wasted no time climbing under the blankets. He heard a noise of amusement from Damian as he laid down next to him.

But Tim was surprised by Damian for the second time that night when he felt two arms wrap around him and pull him right up against the other’s chest. He stiffened at the initial contact, but soon found himself smiling softly as he relaxed into the embrace. He closed his eyes, but not before he softly whispered, “happy day after our anniversary, Damian.”

The food was completely forgotten.

candle lights

stevebucky. 4.3k words. rated m.
blame @steveandbucky.

[part one] [ao3] [series]


“Fuck, just—”

“Stay where you—”

“I can go get—”

“No, Buck, you’re—”

“It’s fine, I’m just gonna—”


“Fuck, fuck, fucking shit, fuck!”

Bucky yelps when sharp pain rushes through his arm, making him take a step back and away from the hot pots on the stove. He rubs at his skin, blind in the complete darkness of the kitchen. They were putting the finishing touches on dinner when the power blinked and went out, leaving them to stumble through the room to pick up their phones from the kitchen table.

“Let me see,” Steve says from behind him, his breath ghosting over Bucky’s ear.

Bucky shivers, hand still rubbing at his now probably red skin. “It’s dark as fuck in here, Steve, you can’t see shit.”

There is no need for light for Bucky to know Steve is rolling his eyes at him. They’ve been together since high school and married for almost five months, and by now they’re both well-versed in each other’s… everything, really.

It takes a second, but soon enough Steve is shining a light from his phone on Bucky’s arm. Bucky blinks, eyes taking a little while to adjust to the sudden brightness. Steve’s fingers are gentle on his arm, turning it a little so he can see better.

“Oh, Buck,” Steve murmurs, lips turning down as he stares at Bucky’s skin, now red and irritated.

“Hurts,” Bucky hisses when Steve traces his thumb over it, pulling his arm closer to himself.

Keep reading

1D Pref; He forgets your anniversary pt 2

Part 1 here :)


You were awoken by the bright sunlight coming from the window. You shield your eyes and got up. Flashbacks from the night before made you angry and sad that Harry had forgotten your one year anniversary.

You turned towards the bed to see Harry’s side empty.

“Haz?” You called, walking out. As soon as you open your bedroom door, the hallway was filled with rose petals. You stood there shocked and followed the trail of rose petals. You were now outside, in your pajamas, at the end of the trail. AND at the end of the trail was your boyfriend of one year, Harry Styles holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

“W-what is all this?” You asked.

“I’m sorry, love.” Harry walked to you, “I forgot our anniversary and that’s probably the worst thing ever. I’m so sorry. I know that work and everything else isn’t an excuse, but I’ve been so stressed I even forgot what day it was. I’m sorry. I’m going to make it up to you, I promise.”

“As long as you’re here with me, I forgive you.” You smiled and leaned in for a kiss, “Happy Anniversary, Haz.”

“Happy anniversary, Y/N.” Harry replied.

Harry spent the rest of the day making it up to you by taking you shopping, to dinner, and some fun in the bedroom ;)


“Our anniversary…” Niall trailed off, “Shit! I’m so sorry, princess!”

“Too busy or not important?” You sighed.

“It just slipped my mind princess, god I’m such an idiot. I’m so sorry..”

“It’s okay,” You muttered, “It’s over now anyways, so let’s just watch a movie or something?”

“No, I want to make it up to you.” Niall said, “Go get dressed, I have something planned.”

“Okay.” You nodded and walked upstairs to get ready. 

Niall, on the other hand, made reservations to your favorite restaurant and made a few phone calls.

“Wow..” Niall mumbled, “You look stunning.”

“Thanks.” You blushed.

“Come on, we’re going to be late.” Niall rushed, taking a hold of your hand and pulling you towards the limo.

“A limo?” You asked astonished.

“Yes, for a princess.” He grinned.

You got in the limo and was immediately driven to your favorite restaurant.

“You made reservations at my favorite restaurant?” You asked, “Ni, this is wonderful!”

“Of course, for my favorite girl in the world." 


"No, that’s not it. You and our relationship is way more important, you know that.” Louis said, “I shouldn’t have forgotten, I’m sorry.”

“Come on, let’s go.. I’ll make it up to you, I mean we still have a whole day to ourselves.”

“You sure?” You asked.

“There’s nothing I rather be doing.” He grinned.

“Good, now let’s go." 


The whole day you were left alone at the flat doing nothing. You tried to listen to music to stop yourself from thinking about today. Liam actually forgot your anniversary. Was this relationship not important to him?

"Good, you’re still home!” Liam exclaimed, walking in. “I’m sorry about before, I completely forgot about our anni-”

You held your hand up, stopping him mid sentence. “Don’t.”

“Y/N, look I’m sorry.” Liam said, walking to you, but you backed away with your hand still up.

“Do you even care about our relationship? It is even important to you Li?” You asked.

“Of course, I do! You know I do, Y/N.” He answered, “It’s just work has taken a toll on me and I’ve been so busy." 

"Oh stop it Liam! You always use that excuse! Remember when you missed out on meeting my parents because of work? Oh and that one time when you canceled our date last minute when I was already there at the restaurant because of ‘work’?!” You yelled. “And don’t forget that one time you made me wait at the cafe because you were coming home from work late, but then you never showed up.”



You drove to Eleanor’s flat to hang out since Zayn obviously didn’t want to hang with you.

"Hey Y/N, what are you doing here?” She grinned, “Aren’t you suppose to be out celebrating your one year anniversary?!" 

"Apparently not..” You said glumly.

“What? Why?” Eleanor asked, concerned.

“He forgot our anniversary..” You replied, “And he even told me to get out of the house by suggesting me to go shopping or do something.”

“Seriously?” She asked, “What kind of boyfriend forgets their anniversary? Oh my god.”

“Zayn forgot your anniversary?!” Louis yelled from behind.

“Yup.” You said popping the 'p’.

“Oh no he didn’t..” Louis muttered angrily, “Don’t worry Y/N, I’ll get this sorted out.”

Louis then walked out leaving you and Eleanor alone to catch up.

A/N: Part 3? :) 

Of Bitter Words and Broken Hearts

Prompt fill for the fantastic ElenneM on FF who asked for an angsty fight fic with happy ending. Strayed slightly from the prompt, hope that’s okay! :)

The door slammed shut, the sound echoing throughout the flat, and settling heavy on Molly’s heart. She could hear Sherlock’s retreat down the stairs and out into the night. She wanted to move, to run after him, to run to the window and call him back, to do something other than stand and hear her own words echo in her mind.

‘It was our anniversary, Sherlock. Does that mean nothing to you?’

‘If you had told me, I wouldn’t have taken the case!’

‘You have a bloody Mind Palace! Isn’t there a calendar in the damn thing? Why do I have to remind you?’

Slowly, she moved into the kitchen, as though in a stupor. Her body went through the motions of putting on the kettle, but her mind and heart were numb. It was their first anniversary as a couple. She knew Sherlock was not adept at social cues and norms, she loved him for it, usually getting a little laugh whenever he stumbled and having him shut her up with a kiss.

But today was supposed to be special. And he’d forgotten.

‘We can celebrate it tomorrow, I’ll take you out to Angelo’s. I’ll buy you a present. I’ll even beg Mycroft for tickets to that play you wanted to see!’

‘That’s not what I want, Sherlock!’

‘Well, what do you want? Because I can’t read minds, Molly! I know you think I can, but this… this sentiment is not my area! Just tell me!’

She pulled her usual cup and saucer from its spot. Without really paying attention, she poured the tea into the cup and added cream and sugar. Sitting at the table, she slowly stirred it. The fight had unleashed a thousand other little fights that had been building up. All the annoyances and aggravations and insecurities that they had kept bottled up for twelve months had been poured out on the other in that one fight.

‘I don’t expect you to be Mr Darcy, but for once, for once, I’d like to think I rate higher than a 7!’

‘You… you think I put cases before you?! And who the hell is this Darcy fellow? One of your numerous ex-lovers? Did you sleep with him like you did with Jim from IT?

‘He’s a fictional chara-How dare you! You know I did not sleep with Jim!’

‘You have to admit, you’ve been a bit promiscuous in the past. The third date is the magic number right? And considering you and I slept together before we even went out once… Well, it was a logical conclusion.’

‘Well, you’re wrong. And of the two of us, you’re the promiscuous one, with your perfectly tailored clothes, coiffed hair, and, oh, that night in Karachi with a dominatrix! At least my sexual relationships have been with people I care for and not just a meaningless shag!’

The tea was growing cold while Molly stirred absentmindedly, leaning on the table and resting her head in her hand. The ache in her chest was growing with every minute that passed as her mind taunted her with her own careless words.

‘Just because I use my appearance to my advantage does not make me promiscuous. At least I don’t hide behind baggy trousers and hideous jumpers because I’m afraid that no one will like me ‘just for who I am’ and can blame it on the clothes!’

‘You may be beautiful in appearance, Sherlock Holmes, but that means nothing when your heart is cold and unfeeling! My god, you’re practically a machine!’

Her heart clenched painfully as her shock faded and she hiccupped a sob, dropping her head onto the table as the tears finally came.

A machine. She’d called him a machine.

She could still see the hurt and betrayal hit him as her words fell between them. His anger vanished in an instant and all she could see was the naïve little boy inside staring back at her with heartbreak written across his face.

Suddenly, none of it seemed important. None of the little irritations she’d hoarded, none of the insecurities she’d held onto, none of her hurt over the forgotten anniversary, none of it mattered as Sherlock shuttered his eyes and strode from the flat, slamming the door in his wake.

What had she done?

The park bench was cold and unforgiving. A lot like him, Sherlock mused, burrowing deeper into the coat he’d never gotten a chance to take off. Night had fallen long ago, the city transitioning from day workers to night life. But the usual hum that filled his rattling mind with peace was nowhere to be found, replaced with a chorus of words… well, one word.


He clenched his jaw and fought back the tears that pricked his eyes. He wasn’t prone to sentimental cliché, sneering at those romantic comedies and dramas Molly loved so much. But to hear from the woman he loved and lived with, that she thought he was a machine… suddenly he understood why heroes and heroines in those movies acted as they did, why they cried or stormed out or withdrew. The hurt that one person can inflict with a single word, the one person you trusted above all others to not break you, was devastating.

No, not devastating.

That was too small a word.

It felt as though his blood had run cold and his lungs would never fill again, his heart caught in a vice of pain, crushing him until he couldn’t bear to look at her any longer.

A small portion of his mind argued that he had forgotten their anniversary and that she was justified in her anger. But he knew it was more than just the anniversary that escalated the fight. It was all her insecurities and his, all the stress of trying to live together and compromise, every little thing they did that irritated the other, all of it wrapped up tight until suddenly set loose tonight.

He closed his eyes and sighed. Sentiment, caring, love… it wasn’t worth this pain.

The night was lightening, thick fog settling over the park, when Sherlock finally stood and made his way back home. No sound came from the flat above him when he stepped inside the foyer and quietly climbed the stairs. The door to 221b was closed, slightly splintered along the doorframe from when he’d slammed it. Taking a deep breath, he twisted the knob and stepped inside.

Nothing had changed since he had left. Molly’s present for him still sat, unopened, on the kitchen table, next to the meal she’d set out in hopes he’d be home in time to eat it, which had long since gone cold. A cup and saucer, however, sat next to the sink, filled with tea but undrunk.

He glanced down the hall to see their bedroom door propped open. Slowly, he walked over and peered inside.

The bed hadn’t been slept in and there no sign of Molly from what he could see. Opening the door all the way, he stepped inside. He glanced around and was about to leave when he caught a flash of brown hair at the foot of the bed.

Exhaling, he walked over and looked down at his girlfriend, her arms wrapped tightly around her legs and her face buried in her knees. With a slight grunt, he sat down beside her, his legs stretched out in front of him.

Molly turned her face toward him, her eyes rimmed red with exhaustion and tears, and he felt some of his hurt fade at the sorrow in her expression. He pursed his lips and stared straight ahead. She had hurt him deeply and he wasn’t going to let her big brown eyes weaken his resolve to be angry.

They sat in silence for a time, the rising sun slowly illuminating the floor before them.

‘You know I don’t think you’re a machine,’ Molly finally said, her voice hoarse from crying and exhaustion.

Sherlock nodded once and flicked his gaze over to her. ‘But you still said it. And in that moment, you truly believed it.’

Sniffling, she pressed her lips against her arm and wiped her fresh tears against the sleeve of her dressing gown. ‘I’m so sorry. I was… I was just so angry and hurt that you’d forgotten-’

‘This wasn’t just about our anniversary,’ he interrupted, finally turning to look at her. ‘Wasn’t it? This was about all the annoying things we do that we’ve been holding back from each other.’

She closed her eyes and pulled her legs closer. ‘Yeah.’

He sighed. ‘So what do we do?’

She shrugged. ‘Either we work it out and find a way to move past this… or we break up.’

He would have to be blind, or Anderson, to miss the stark fear on her face. He would do anything to never see that again.

Slowly, he reached over and trailed his hand along her arm, before threading his fingers through hers. She swallowed and looked up at him in hesitant belief.

‘Then we work things out. Because breaking up with you will never be an option.’