There was something sinful about lying in bed in the middle of the day. To turn the lights down, to lay there for hours, thinking of nothing, doing nothing. After months of waking up in Shepard's bed, wrapped in his arms, you'd think she'd have grown used to it by now. But no. Not even close. Though she could get used to it. She'd like to get used to it.
He rustled under her, adjusting the pillow behind his shoulders as she tucked her head against his chest. Listening to the strength of his heartbeat, her fingers drew lazy patterns across his stomach. She smiled to herself when he hummed in approval.
"What if we just don't go back?" He asked, guilt evident in his voice.
She pressed her lips to his skin, still warm and sultry in after-glow, and propped herself on her elbows.
"Then who will save the galaxy?" She teased, peering down at him from her perch on his chest.
"Garrus."
Something dangerously close to a giggle escaped her as she pressed her forehead to his chest. She felt his hands brush the fringes of her head, and kissed him again. When she met his eyes again, she found a weightiness behind the deep brown irises; a sadness that pressed down on them both in that moment, a sentiment they'd tried so hard to supress. Like the feeling of a Sunday evening, where the looming prospect of another tomorrow threatened to crush any joy out of the final moments of peace.
"I actually have a question to ask you." He said softly. She propped herself on her elbows again, peering down at him anxiously. The sadness in his eyes was still there, but something else too.
She smiled and snuggled closer, nudging his nose with her own. "Fire away," she murmured.
When he pressed his hand against her cheek, she kissed it, and some of the sadness in his eyes disappeared.
"If you – Let's say…" he swallowed the lump that formed in his throat, and she leaned on her side, looking at him with a tinge of worry.
"John," She started sweetly, and he closed his eyes tightly to the sound of his name. "Whatever happens…"
"No," he interrupted. "It's not that."
She caressed the scruff of his chin with her thumb, "Then what?"
"Let's say, hypothetically, a human wanted to marry an asari. I know that it's not the custom, actually I'm not really sure at all of the custom. I'd done a bit of research but it seems there's no one way to do it and some asari don't really believe in marriage and…what?"
There was that near giggle again as she realized the emotion behind his eyes was actually nervousness.
"Hypothetically?" She asked, curiously.
"Yeah. You know, just in case I ever found myself in such a situation. I'd like to be prepared."
She adjusted herself on her pillow, both of them turning on their sides. The sheets fell away from her breasts but his eyes stayed trained on hers.
"Well, asari don't really marry the same way humans do. As I understand it, marriage between humans is borne of an act of alliance between families, or as a way to legitimize or sanction sexual activity. It's more of a contract."
He smirked, "Well, it used to be. And I guess, it still is that way in a sense, but there's marriage for love, too."
"But that love requires a contract of marriage, correct? In a legal sense." She continued.
He frowned, his hand sliding from her hip to rest on the bed. She snatched it and gathered it in her own. He tried to smile as she kissed his fingers.
"You aren't answering my question." He retorted.
"Asari do have similar contracts, but if you were to hypothetically 'propose' to an asari…well…you wouldn't really."
"You wouldn't ask someone to be your bondmate?" He asked, free hand now roaming her back. Her heart quickened.
"Not in the way a human asks another for marriage, no. A life-bond should never be contemplated as a light thing - unlike a legal union, the joining of souls cannot be severed. When a mate is lifebound to another - bondmated - a mystery is engaged. In one aspect mystical, bondmating is the most sublime endeavor that an asari may assume."
He rolled onto his back and contemplated her answer, breathing a heavy sigh. "So, if I can't propose to you…"
"I didn't say that." Aware of every breath, every movement, she sat in his lap. His hands gently braced her hips as she studied his face. "It's something that you just…know. And now I want you to know that I love you. I want you to know … " His lips trembled, and she brushed away the tear that escaped down his cheek. "I want you to know," she whispered, "that every piece of my heart belongs to you. And I am honoured—honoured to be your mate."
His arms wrapped around her and he sat up, pressing his forehead to shoulder. She stroked a hand through his black hair.
"I love you," she said again. "And I'd endure every second of this war over again so I could find you. And if the end comes, we'll face it. Together. I won't let them take me from you. And I won't let them take you from me, either."
Shepard looked up, his face glinting with tears. He went still as she leaned in, kissing away one tear. Then the other. As he had once kissed away hers. When her lips were wet and salty with them, she pulled back far enough to see his eyes.
"You're mine," she breathed.
Sniffling, he wiped his eyes and held onto her tightly, "I don't even have a ring for you." He choked.
She reached over to the nightstand and slipped a necklace around his neck, the small metallic bauble cold against his skin. "Asari usually exchange bracelets, but I hope this will do for now."
Searching the darkness for a reciprocal gesture, he settled on a loose thread hanging from the sheets. Breaking it, he held her wrist and tied the string around it, not noticing the tears forming behind her eyes.
"There." He said, "I'm yours."
