When He Knew
Disclaimer: I don't own W.i.t.c.h. or any of the characters.
Time Period: Six years after the end of the second season.
Matt knew that he was going to propose to Will one December morning when she was getting dressed. They were enclosed in their room, thankful for the solace of the warm air's embrace. One of their closet doors was wide open, exposing a rainbow of colors that made up Will's wardrobe. Matt was perched on the foot of their downy bed, listening to her animatedly discuss the events of Friday night, when she and Taranee had deserted Cornelia at a ritzy restaurant that had made them feel revolted in the first place.
Will laughed and then silenced as she rifled through the array of clothes in front of her. Matt's eyes darted to the camels, powder blues, whites, and emeralds of a group of her shirts and then wandered back to her trim body. He admired the creamy skin on her back, noting how it contrasted with her black undergarments. She was certainly a sight to behold when she was in this state, but he was able to exercise self restraint because they had talked like this on a daily basis for over a year.
When they first started living together this had proven to be a challenge. It was trying for them to watch the other dress, and on occasion, one of them would make the first move, causing them to be slightly late to their daily obligations. They'd been reprimanded for being ten minutes late to their shifts at Olsen's no more than once when they got their act together, both of them a little more than cautious to avoid a repeat. Passion was null on the days they had college classes (no matter how many times Will insisted otherwise), leaving an off day or two available for the young lovers.
Matt sighed quietly. He wasn't sure if this would be a day where he exercised restraint or a day similar to those of the past. He was torn from his musings when Will resumed talking in her lively voice, facing him. His focus quickly traveled from her abdomen up to her face. "Did I tell you about the waiter?" she asked, looking him in the eye.
"No, I don't think you did."
"He was so snooty. Cornelia got along with him. Big surprise there. He got angry at me because I didn't understand the French on the menu. Had the nerve to insult me about it. Taranee looked like she wanted to flambé him after that. I did, too."
"Did you?" Matt grinned.
"A little. I gave him a teensy electric shock when he turned his back to leave. Then Cornelia yelled at me, went to the bathroom, and me and Tee blew that popsicle stand. We had Creole food at the Cooks' house. It was so good. Better than anything at Le Fleur. I wish Mom cooked like Theresa. Maybe I'd eat her food when we go over there."
"You're not one to talk," he joked.
"I know."
"I could learn how to cook Creole. I'll ask Theresa to give me a recipe or two since you're such a fanatic now," he teased, smirking a little.
"I wouldn't say I'm a fanatic. Not yet. Sure, that'd be cool. And delicious…" Will trailed off and extracted a white spaghetti strap tank top from a hanger, pulling it over her head. A thin line of lace bordered the u-neck and the cotton of the shirt hugged her petite curves. The simple article of clothing looked lovely on her.
In fact, she looked so pretty that Matt wasn't ready for her to layer another shirt over it. He rose, halting her progress towards their closet by embracing her from behind, his arms arcing around her back. He pressed a feather soft kiss to the juncture where her neck and shoulder met. She relaxed in his hold, tilting her head upward to allow him better access to her neck. He ignored that part of her anatomy, instead creating a trail of light kisses over to the end of her shoulder. "You starting something, Matt? Looking for an appetizer before breakfast?" she quipped. He could hear the grin in her voice.
Matt smiled. "No. I still wanna see Lilian."
"Then why are you making moves on me?"
"Because you look beautiful. Really beautiful." He gazed at the sterling silver chain dangling from her neck. Two wings hung from the chain. There were lines were etched into the silver creating the impression of feathers. He had bought it as a gift for her twentieth birthday.
Extending an arm, he lifted the wings from their spot just below her collarbone and fiddled with them, running his fingers over the tiny grooves. He grinned as he thought of their private jokes about how she had a pair of wings that she could actually show her family.
"Thanks," she said, emitting a happy sigh.
"Mmhmm." Matt's gaze drifted back to the pendant and he became lost in silent thought. The necklace was truly a reflection of his feelings for her. She had saved him multiple times in their teenage years when he had made reckless decisions, she had suffered from his stint as Shagon, fighting against him and standing guard as he unknowingly hurt her friends.
Then she had dealt with the complex emotions that that provoked: agony and guilt for injuring the man she loved, and regret. She had released it into her tears after the battle of bands, crying into his chest as they cuddled under their favorite willow tree in the school courtyard. It was then that Matt realized they were scarred. They wouldn't be the same people they had been before the disaster, but they would always have one another. And as far as he was concerned, that would help them fight through anything.
And it had. Together they had recovered from the atrocity to the best of their ability in the following weeks, returning to their semi-normal lives. After the defeat of Nerissa and Cedric, Will and Matt gained that much desired normal life, reveling in their freedom. They now had a significant amount of time on their hands, some of which they spent with one another.
It was amidst those moments of solitude, when they cuddled and kissed, that they formed a deeper bond. Matt felt rejuvenated and whole when he held Will in his arms. He felt excited (and eventually fatigued) when they had spent a day at an amusement park with Taranee and Nigel, and Will had dragged him around all day long, her hand clasped in his as she suggested daring ride after daring ride.
Humorous remarks poured from his lips like a heavy rain that day, and whenever Matt heard Will laugh, his body felt light, like he was walking on clouds. In the years that followed, he let the buoyancy motivate him to make her happy in any way that he could.
He experienced a similar sensation now as he clutched her close (for any part of Will could make him feel that way), her joints and muscles loose against his body. He inhaled the scent of her vanilla body wash, savored the sensation of her soft, warm skin against his as he rested his cheek on hers. He wanted to do this for the rest of his life: hold Will in his arms, talk to her while she got dressed, and evoke her joyful laugh. Matt's breath hitched in his throat as it dawned on him. Today was the day.
"You okay?" Will's concerned voice jolted Matt away from his nerves, forcing him to focus on her.
"Yeah. I... I'm fine."
"You're sure about that?"
"Yep."
"Okay. Let me go so I can put on a shirt."
"No. You're my prisoner. I'm holding you hostage, Will," was his sly response. He dropped her angel wings pendant, his hands slithering down to her bare legs so he could massage them.
"So much for you not jumping my bones," Will let out a noise of contentment.
"If I were jumping your bones you'd already be in bed."
"Uh, bad guess. You're being nice?"
"Maybe."
"Vandom, one, Olsen, zero."
"I'm not scoring points with you?" The circular motions of his hands became more lazy.
"I... You..." she spluttered inarticulately, drawing in a shaky breath.
"That's what I thought." He grinned, his hands sliding up to her waist and giving it similar treatment.
"Matt," she breathed his name into an elongated, happy sigh.
"Yeah?"
"I love you. So much," her voice was sweet.
"Love you, too, babe," he murmured into her ear. Will removed Matt's hands from her middle, turned in his hold so she could see him, and resettled herself in his embrace. She folded her hands at the nape of his neck, holding him firmly and running her fingers through his raven locks. Her head fell to his chest and he stroked her back, the two them resuming their former ease.
"I love this," she whispered a few minutes later.
"Same. Doesn't get old, does it?" He felt her shaking her head against his torso. Her hands suddenly stopped skimming through his hair and her body stiffened a little. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing. But I should finish getting dressed. I don't want Cornelia to yell at us if we're late. She doesn't need another reason to be mad."
"Aw, okay," he sighed resignedly. He released her, plopping down onto their bed. Will resumed sifting through her clothes until she settled on a jade green sweater with a modest neckline. It looked like it was made from a soft material. Matt guessed it was a purchase from her recent shopping trip with Hay Lin and Irma because he had never seen it before. He watched as Will tugged it on, straightening out her hair and tugging the top of the tank top so lace peeked out from beneath the sweater.
He took a closer look, examining the material. Feeling oddly curious, Matt walked over to Will and laid a hand on her shoulder, brushing his fingers over the fabric. It was impossibly silky, even softer than Thor's fur after a bath. He shrugged, not giving it much more thought aside from musing that his Will would be softer and warmer against him when he held her later.
"Be good. You're not allowed to distract me again," she said.
"I'm not."
"Good. Cornelia said something about a snowball fight. We'll need our snow clothes. Let's bring them along."
"Okay. My snow gear's in the front closet. So's your coat. I'll go get our stuff together," he said, quickly thinking of an ulterior motive.
"Thanks." She stood on her tiptoes, grabbing his face and pulling him down for a too short kiss. He was tempted to draw her into his grasp and continue the affection, but he had a more pressing matter to deal with.
Matt nodded and settled for blowing her a kiss and smiling before leaving the room. He sprinted to the closet at the entrance of their apartment, opening the door, shoving aside various coats and locating a beige one of his. He hurriedly tugged at the zipper on one of the pockets, extracting an ebony velvet box. Matt hastily stuffed it into his regular winter jacket, pulling the zipper closed with trembling, nervous fingers.
Letting out a deep breath in relief (it turned out that she was taking longer than he expected), he gathered Will's coat as well as their pairs of snow pants and shrugged on his jacket. Will made her presence known by tapping his shoulder a few moments later. "Hey, you." She smiled at him.
"Hey." He handed Will her snow pants and coat, surveying her final outfit. She had matched the sweater with blue jeans. The style was her own, fully Will, casual but simply chic. He cringed as she moved to pull on her coat. "Can't you put that on outside? It isn't cold in here."
"You're wearing your coat," she pointed out. He tried not to sigh, looking at Will straight in the eye when she addressed him. "What's your damage?"
"Nothing, beautiful."
"Aha! That's it! You don't want me to cover up!"
He blushed pink as he muttered, "Like you can blame me."
"Awww, Matt," her voice went from smug to gracious. He gathered her into his arms, pressing his body to hers and initiating a lingering hug. She withdrew from him a short while later, gripped her royal purple jacket by the sleeve, and waved it slowly in front of his face as if she were going to hypnotize him. "I'm going to put this on outsiiide," Will drawled, a grin on her lips.
Matt chuckled, his eyes transfixed on the polyester. "Okayy. Will, you are really something."
"Aw, you know you love me."
"Of course I do."
"You sure know how to treat a girl."
"Thanks." Matt winked at Will. They left their apartment after they finished getting ready and were greeted by the bitter winter air. Matt found himself feeling confident about what was to come as Will slipped into her coat. He planted a kiss on her cheek, tugging her to him. The couple beamed as they strolled down the snowy sidewalk, their arms around each other's waists, and Matt couldn't help but revel in Will's company and their current state of peace.
Author's Note: This certainly isn't my best piece, but I think it's cute. :) I wanted to explore what was going on in Matt's mind that morning. Also, I like the idea of Will and Matt talking while getting dressed because it's a coupley thing and it shows that they're truly comfortable with one another, which is important in a relationship.
Will's line about Matt wanting an "appetizer" before breakfast was a shameless reference to Hermione's line in the latest "Harry Potter" film about how Harry enjoyed his "dessert" - meaning he was more than a little pleased to see Ginny at Slughorn's Christmas party. I thought that line was pretty damn epic and wanted to write something similar with WxM.
Thanks to everyone who reads, reviews, and faves my work! I really, really appreciate your kind words! They mean a lot to me. :D Hugs and kisses to all of you, my dear readers! ;) I'll be posting a few more drabble and drabbleshot type fics and a oneshot soon. But I must say, the oneshot is probably going to give me hell. :P
