Inspired by a tumblr prompt: Imagine your OTP kissing through a window.
Farewell
The crowd was cheering. People were waving and laughing. It was bright and sunny, and felt very much like a celebration.
But to Beatrice, it felt like anything but.
She crossed her arms in front of her, glancing at Hero, who was sweeping both arms madly in the air. "They're going away," Beatrice said to her cousin.
Surprised, Hero stopped and turned. "Oh, Bea, it's not a war! They're just going to patrol the border!"
Beatrice glared at the men in white, all smiles and happiness. Sure, it was just border control, but it didn't stop the clump in her stomach from twisting and making her feel ill.
Her gaze was pulled, as it always was, to the tall skinny Signor, all wide and cheeky grins as he waved at the adoring people of Messina. She felt herself smile despite herself. For her silly and jovial husband could always make her forget any negative feelings she would begin to harbor.
And he would be gone for six months.
She shook away the melancholy and stomped forward, her eyes glued on him. She'd allowed him this inane moment of glory with the crowds, even though they'd said their good-bye in private the night before…and earlier that morning.
Behind his aviator sunglasses, Benedick's grin grew wider, if that was possible, as he saw her approach. His comrades in arms soon started to walk toward the boat, shielded by the glass vestibule that covered the final path.
Benedick stayed behind, not removing his sunglasses. Beatrice could see the worry in her eyes as her reflection stared back at her.
His grand smile not breaking, Benedict maintained that façade of a goofy soldier. "Ah, my dear bride here to weep at my departure?" he asked.
Beatrice smirked. It was so natural for them to fall into this. "I am here to assure you are on the boat and on your way."
He chuckled. "And I shall finally find peace with the prospect of battle before me," he said.
Beatrice's eyebrow arched. "And my home shall finally be clean for more than a day."
They walked side-by-side to the final gate, Beatrice's stomach feeling heavier and heavier with each step. Of course she could never admit that she would miss him. Nor would he confess to missing her.
Instead, he turned. "I trust you will not wilt away in my absence."
She shook her head. "And you will not fall into the depths of a bottle."
Benedick removed his glasses, the smile dimming from his face. "I shall remember this until we see each other again."
Beatrice's stomach tightened, but she would not allow her husband to remember her in sadness. She playfully punched his shoulder, grinning. "If that takes six months to heal, you better stay away longer," she said.
Benedick grinned and leaned down, kissing her. It wasn't the passion they shared the night before, or the nearly-tearful farewell they'd exchanged before he left that morning. But it was strong and it was sweet, and Beatrice would hold onto it for the next six months.
Pulling back, Benedick winked and placed the sunglasses back on his face. "Try not to miss me too much," he said, walking behind the glass.
Beatrice rolled her eyes. "I shall ask Claudio if you behave yourself," she countered.
Benedick eyebrows rose above the glasses. "Farewell, my lady!" he shouted and kissed the glass with dramatic flair.
Beatrice shook her head and watched him go. He was the last to leave and the boat closed its door once he was inside. Beatrice took a deep breath, ignoring the cheers and merriment around her. She would be all right. Benedick would be safe. She would laugh as she always did. She had Hero, Aunt Imogen, Margaret, and Ursula to entertain. She would wake herself up with laughing when her bed got too cold.
Walking up to the vestibule, she smiled as the memory of her charming and ridiculous husband's mouth had pressed to the glass. Not really caring about anyone who would see and comment, Beatrice closed her eyes and pressed her lips to the same place.
She smiled when she stood back. "Until next time, you fool," she whispered and walked away.