Gwynplaine held Dea close to him, feeling her gentle breaths against the side of his neck. His thoughts raced as he wondered what he should do; whether he should just continue to sit here holding her, or whether he should prove his love for her. She was blind; would she be able to expect what was coming? Would he frighten her? She had already accepted him, even when he made her "see" his deformity with her fingers. So… what should he do?
"Dea," he finally whispered, his arms tightening around her slightly, "you know I love you?"
"And I love you, Gwynplaine," Dea whispered back, a smile on her face. She stroked Gwynplaine's hair, and then his cheeks, her sightless eyes staring just above his head.
Yes, Gwynplaine thought, this is the woman I shall marry. She does not laugh at me like all the others do. She actually loves me; she is not like the Duchess. His arms once again tightened around her, and he took a chance; he pressed his deformed lips to Dea's ever-so-softly, just a light contact. He watched her, judging her reaction.
The younger girl slowly brought her hands down from Gwynplaine's head down to his cheeks, holding his face as she began to press their lips together firmly. At this, Gwynplaine used one hand to hold the back of Dea's head so he could kiss her just a little bit harder, never taking his eyes of the girl's face. After a moment, he separated from her, wanting to tremble but not wanting to show his fear and anxiety to the blind girl.
"Oh, Gwynplaine," Dea said happily, smiling up at him, "I'm so happy. I never thought that Gwynplaine, sweet and humble Gwynplaine, would love me back!"
If Gwynplaine had not had a permanent smile plastered on his face, he would have been smiling anyway. He leaned down and kissed her once more, this time cupping her cheek rather than her head. He allowed his eyes close, seeing as how Dea had already closed hers.
"Dea," Gwynplaine muttered, brushing some of the girl's curly hair out of her face, "do you trust me?"
"Yes, of course," Dea answered. Gwynplaine could see the confusion etched on her face. Of course she doesn't understand, he thought. She's been blind her whole life. She doesn't understand what I'm hinting at.
"Do you… know what a man and a woman do to prove that they love each other?" Not the best way to explain, but it would have to do.
"They do this, right?" Dea asked. "What we just did."
"Well, correct," Gwynplaine said, "but they do more."
"They do?" Dea tilted her head to the side.
"Would you want me to show you?" Gwynplaine held his breath, staring at the blind girl as he waited for her answer.
"Yes," the girl finally answered. She still looked confused, so Gwynplaine kissed her cheek.
"If you feel uncomfortable with anything I'm about to do," he said, "let me know. I'll stop," he said. Dea nodded her head, clinging to his shoulders as he laid her back gently onto the bed. He moved slowly, keeping his hands on her so she knew what he was doing. He sat down sideways on her bed, slipping his hands down her thighs slowly. Looking back up at her face, he pushed his hands underneath the bottom of her nightgown, sliding the fabric up.
Dea's hands shot down to prevent him from lifting the gown above her thighs. "Gwynplaine?" she whispered. "What are you…?"
"Ssh," Gwynplaine murmured, shaking his head, "are you uncomfortable?"
"Well, no," Dea murmured, before she smiled again. "I'm fine," she said. "It's Gwynplaine, so I'm okay."
"Dea, don't just do this for me," Gwynplaine said softly. "If you're truly uncomfortable, just say so. It's fine."
"Really, I love you, Gwynplaine," Dea assured him. "Show me."
Gwynplaine simply nodded – though he knew she could not see this – and continued to slide her gown up, averting his eyes once the clothing was above her hips; he would not stare at her, even if she could not see where his eyes were. He slowly got on top of her, his knees on either side of her frame. Dea brought her hands up, resting them on his legs to reassure herself. Gwynplaine took her hands in his and brought them to his mouth, kissing her fingers lightly.
"Relax, darling," he murmured against her palm, "I won't hurt you."
"I know," Dea whispered. "But, may I ask what it is you're about to do?"
Gwynplaine hesitated for a moment before answering. "I'm going to make love to you," he said, his breath trembling as he waited for the blind girl's answer.
Dea was quiet for a moment, and then her face slowly broke out into a smile. "Shouldn't we wait until we're married?" she said, tilting her head to the side.
"If that's what you'll be most comfortable with, then yes, we will wait until we're married," Gwynplaine said, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. The girl wrapped her arms around him, and he quickly flipped her nightgown back down so as not to expose her any longer, and then he held her closer, burying his face in the crook of her neck. After a moment, Dea motioned with her finger for him to lay down beside her, and the much taller man awkwardly situated himself on the mattress, wrapping his arms around her waist tightly.
Dea's hands cupped his face, and her lips pressed against his chin, most likely due to bad aim from her blindness. Gwynplaine smiled anyway, tangling a hand in her curly hair and sighing contently. He would talk to Ursus in the morning about marrying this beautiful girl.
Word count: Somewhere around 993.
A/n: So, how was that? Considering that there aren't any fan fictions for The Man Who Laughs (that I'm aware of, anyway) I had little idea on how to write this, how it will be taken, etc. This was meant to be a one-shot, but I thought back on how romantic the scene was (if you watch the film, you'll understand) that I decided, "Gwynplaine would wait until they were married, wouldn't he? That sounds more like Gwynplaine." Conrad Veidt gave a wonderful performance in this film.
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