So after receiving the horrible news about some rather questionable casting decisions today, I found that the best way to deal with my grief was to elaborate on one of my happier drabbles. No angst here, just some domestic bliss and Rayna throwing a child's "BUT I'M A PRINCESS!" tantrum. :) Enjoy! *Thank you to Shiny Jewel for the motivation. It was hard to come by.
She tossed the throw blanket onto the floor and stood up, turning the TV off as she did so.
He remained on the couch, watching her perfectly tangled hair cascade over the wrinkles in her t-shirt. His boxers didn't fit her, but she insisted on wearing them.
She turned to face him. There wasn't an ounce of makeup on her skin and his heart still nearly stopped at the sight of her.
"You coming, babe?"
She'd never looked more beautiful; more stunning to him than she did right then. He had to have her.
Forever.
"You wanna get married, Ray?"
He should've been nervous.
Her face was frozen; her body rigid. Her eyes were her eyes were wide and her mouth was opened ever so slightly. The color in her face drained completely and he knew that all of these physical reactions should have scared the ever living shit out of him.
But, they didn't.
He looked halfway cocky as he rolled his head from side to side, the sound of his cracking neck being the only sign of life in the room. She had even seemed to stop breathing, he noticed.
"Rayna?" He spoke, his voice low and rugged, as he'd had little use for it during the span of their five hour movie fest.
She finally began to blink, shaking her head slightly from side to side. She still didn't move her body and her color never seemed to return.
"I'm sorry, what?"
Deacon stared at her, relaxed as he'd ever been and completely unfazed. She was baffled by his calm.
"I asked if you wanna get married."
She finally brought her arms up, placing them out in front of her as she shook her head.
"No, no, no, no, no."
He rolled his eyes and slumped back into the leather couch, rubbing his temple. Here she goes.
"Why not?"
"We're wearing shitty pajamas. You have bed head. I look like death."
He shook his head, still forbidding any nerves from reaching his core.
"Nope. You look beautiful."
She rolled her eyes.
"We just spent five hours eating slimy junk food and watching depressing movies. You can't propose to someone like this."
He nodded, looking up at the ceiling as if to be entertaining her thought process.
"Well, I just did. So I can."
"Deacon!"
He laughed and sat up straight, admiring the look of sheer annoyance on her face. He decided in that instant that she either read too many magazine articles or she had actually spent a considerable amount of time planning this event in her head.
He couldn't blame her, really. She'd been proposed to twice, the first time being exceptionally sweet and romantic up until he went on a blackout bender and forgot it all. The second time was apparently some sort of strange arrangement that he still found to be awfully painful and confusing when he tried to understand.
He stood to his feet, continuing to grin at the wild look on her face.
"Come here, Ray."
"No!"
Had she stomped her foot, she would have sounded no different than Daphne when she threw tantrum. Clearly, she wanted to take her ball and go home.
"What's the matter?" She took a deep breath. He frowned, seeing a slight quiver in her lip. What the fuck…? "Rayna, seriously. What's wrong?"
"I just told you."
He wrapped his arms around her and closed his eyes, bringing his lips to her forehead and kissing her.
"I did it right before, Ray. I was on my knees with about 800 candles around us, I told you I loved you more than anything else in the world, and I gave you a ring. You know what else I did?"
She lifted her head, her eyes searching his for the answer.
"I forgot it all. I'm not gonna forget this time. Those potato chips tasted too damn good to forget it," He smirked, finally bringing a grin to her face, along with a little color. "Well?"
She rolled her eyes and backed away from him, slapping him lightly on the chest before completely turning around and walking down the hallway.
"Rayna!"
She turned to face him, cocking her head and placing a sturdy hand on her hip.
"You know the answer, Deacon. Now are you coming to bed or not?"