Warm, golden light spilled into Electra Shepard's room through the sheer white curtains. It caressed her cheek and tugged at her eyelids until she finally opened them.
Maybe Garrus was right, she thought to herself, a little irritated. Maybe these windows are too big.
It wasn't often that she could take breaks from her efforts to face the Reapers without immense guilt - how could she allow herself to sleep in on a warm morning, in a safe apartment, away from all the chaos when there are thousands, if not millions, of individuals dying every second? But she's forced herself to push down the guilt; she couldn't do anything until the Normandy was thoroughly searched and cleaned after being stolen, and shes rallied as many species against the Reapers as she possibly could. All that was left was to wait.
There were a few things - people, really - that made the wait bearable, even made her secretly ache for more shore leave. One of them was lying in bed next to her.
He was staring at the ceiling with an oddly serious expression on his face for someone who had promised to enjoy this time with her. A part of her didn't mind; the golden light made his rough, scaled face shine beautifully, and the stoic expression seemed to simply bring the image together.
"Garrus?," she murmured, hating her soft voice right after she wakes up. "Is something wrong?"
He seemed a bit startled at the question. "Shepard. Of course not." He broke his concentration on the ceiling to examine her face, drink in the her sleepy expression, then turned back to the ceiling, seemingly lost in his thoughts again that quickly.
She wanted to ask what he was thinking about, to pick apart his mind and figure out what was so important that it would plague his mind in these early hours. But she waited, knowing Garrus would tell her when he was ready.
"Okay," she replied simply, and inched under the covers closer to him until she was curled next to his side with her head on his shoulder. He absentminded stroked her cheek and ran his talons through her very short, very soft, curly hair. She closed her eyes and sighed, pleased. She never told him how much she loved it, but he seemed to have figured it out on his own. Or, perhaps he loves doing this just as much.
A few minutes like this passed in silence, Shepard enjoying her turian boyfriend's presence as he lost himself in his own thoughts.
Then, he spoke.
"You know, Shepard...," he began, his deep voice rumbling in his chest. She could feel the vibrations travel through her. She enjoyed that as well. "Eventually... The war against the Reapers will be over."
"Mhm," she agreed while nodding into his shoulder. Garrus was never the direct type.
"Assuming with both survive this thing... I was wondering. I've actually been thinking about this for a while, so don't laugh."
"I won't," she promised.
"I was wondering," he repeated, a little more nervous now. "How does, uh, Shepard Vakarian sound?"
'Shepard Vakarian'?, she mused to herself. How would that work? Shepard's not even my first name. What a weird way to propose -
She stopped. She bolted upright, the covers falling off of her, confusion and shock plain on her face as she stared at her nervous boyfriend. She hadn't even noticed that he had turned on his side while he was talking. He looked nervous and a bit scared at her reaction, like he thought she'd jump out the bed, board the Normandy, and never look back.
"Did you just... Propose?," she inquired plainly, feeling more than a little slow. Duh, he proposed. Was that the norm for turians? Is that how Garrus's father proposed to his mother? Come to think of it, she didn't really know anything about his immediate family. Strange.
She snapped out of her reverie once she realized Garrus was speaking.
"... knew I should have asked Joker for some vids about human customs on proposing. Look, Shepard, I didn't mean to be rude or anything, I just -"
She covered his mouth gently, until he stopped talking. She smiled, removed her hand, and kissed him softly on his lips.
"Of course I'll marry you, you dork," she answered affectionately. She never even considered she was important enough to lose sleep over, not until she heard Anderson's recordings after accepting the apartment. But of course Garrus would remind her. No wonder she was in love with him.
He looked relieved - even more so than she would have thought - sat up, and touched his forehead to hers.
"You have no idea what this means to me, Shepard," he whispered.
She smiled. Then, remembering something important, she lifted her head and tilted his chin so they made eye contact.
"I'm still accepting your proposal, Garrus, but you need to know something," she began a bit sternly. "My first name isn't Shepard."
The elated expression dropped quickly and he began apologizing profusely. She smiled and shook her head fondly, as she always did when her awkward turian boyfriend makes a social mistake.
But something began to tug at the back of her mind. Something she always pushed down, more often than having to choose between Kaiden and Ashley, more intensely than thinking about the pain of dying and being brought back to life. Something that never truly surfaced because she never had enough downtime since the incident.
But now all she could think about was the faces of her parents, family, and friends she lost on Mindoir. All she could hear was their cheerful voices calling her name, laughing with her and sometimes at her because of her clumsy mistakes, and for the first time in a very long time, she allowed herself to feel homesick.
