Note: This isn't a real fanfic as such. It's a roleplay which I roleplayed with my girlfriend, but it's quite detailed in some ways and I thought it was worthy enough to upload here. So forgive me for grammar and spelling mistakes. Thank you, and enjoy.
I first noticed him a long time ago when I was still an innocent and young girl. That tall, dirty blonde young Danish boy.
At first I found him mysteriously amusing; the way he'd make my gloomy brother laugh and bring life into everything wherever he would go. He could bloom a whole feild of dead flowers if he wandered into it.
I was afraid to talk to him. I was afraid he'd see me as one of those typical quiet girls who locked up the real girl inside of her. That was me.
But one day that Danish boy stepped up to me and said "Hej!"
That sweet, deep tone of his voice, smooth like slippery frozen ice. The way those ocean blue orbs would watch me for my reply to his greeting. I wasn't sure how to describe this feeling. But I was soon learning one thing about myself; why I watch him with my brother so much, why I can't take my eyes off of him.
I was in love with him…
Over twenty years and we are now married. I still remember the sweet scent of the rose field from that day, his tear-filled eyes as he watched me in my pure white wedding dress, my own tears slipping down my face behind my wedding viel.
It was from this moment on I knew this was the man I want to spend the rest of my life with. We had our own family. Our son Simon, then our daughter Sophia, then our son Elias and finally our adorable little girl Grace.
Everything was perfect. He would never let me go. He even cut down on smoking and drinking just so he could protect me and our family.
I loved him. I loved him more than anyone I've ever loved before.
He wasn't stupid and he wasn't an idiot. He was more of a gentlemen than anyone realised. He'd love me more than himself. He was
obsessed with me. I was obsessed with him.
I would sometimes ask him to make love to me and we would. I just wanted to be so close to him. I clung with dear life onto him. I never wanted to let go.
But even the strongest of grips slip away in the end.
- Belgium