You Look Beautiful
A/N: This is a small oneshot that wouldn't fit in Tales of Trollstopia. Poppy watches her reflection while getting ready for a wedding.
It was inspired by this marvelous piece perfomed by Sean Connery, written by Paul Mccartney / John Lennon. Youtube it!
"There are places I remember
All my life though some have changed
Some forever not for better
Some have gone and some remain
All these places had their moments
With lovers and friends I still can recall
Some are dead and some are living
In my life I've loved them all
But of all these friends and lovers
There is no one compared with you
And these memories lose their meaning
When I think of love as something new
Though I know I'll never lose affection
For people and things that went before
I know I'll often stop and think about them
In my life I'll love you more
In my life I'll love you more"
Perhaps she should change the mirror.
Poppy sat quietly in front of her vanity, staring quietly at her reflection. She applied creams, moisturizes and a decent amount of foundation but she still could see them. She had expression lines.
With her endless positivity, she tried to brush away the queasy feeling it caused her and she was successful until the next time her eyes found her reflection again. It could be anywhere: inside her home, in a puddle, on the back of a spoon. The lines were always there.
She heard the shower being shut from inside the bathroom and she put on a bright smile, spraying perfume and standing up wearing her elegant blue dress, ready for her husband to zip it up.
Branch entered the bedroom looking handsomely refreshed. He had many expression lines caused by his gray years and they only deepened as time went by. Gladly, she noticed he had smile lines, too.
His hair had a good amount of white streaks, especially in the front, going up from his forehead. Years only gave him a dashly mature vibe and Poppy couldn't help herself but stare at the love of her life as he slipped on his briefs.
He approached her from behind with a soft smile. His big hands immediately zipped her dress up without having to be asked. His arms slipped around her waist and he pressed his cheek against hers, watching the portrait of the years of a happy marriage reflected in the mirror.
"We're going to be late, love," Poppy said. Normally, she'd turn in his arms, but this time, her eyes got emptily fixed at her reflection.
Branch bent his lips down and kissed her bare shoulders. He quickly glanced at the make up she had put on and noticed how she had tried to hide a smile line by blushing up her cheeks. Suddenly, Branch knew what was going on.
It was one more mark on her skin for her to obsess over.
His fingers unzipped the dress once again and she stared at him in confusion. Hooking his fingers on the sides, he pulled the expensive fabric down, leaving his stunningly beautiful wife in nothing but her bras and panties.
"Love, it's our son's wedding, we can't be late," Poppy tried to protest, but Branch merely slipped his hand over her body, enjoying the feeling of having her warm skin under his fingers.
So many years of the same touch and he couldn't get enough of it. Turning her to face him with a finger on her chin, he dove in for a long and passionate kiss, surprising Poppy at how much of his soul he was putting into it. She completely forgot about protesting. She could re-apply the lipstick later.
"Do you know what I see when I see you?" Branch said once he broke their kiss. Poppy could barely mutter a sound to indulge him to keep talking, having the air knocked out of her. "I see a troll who lives her life to the fullest." He turned to the mirror, causing her to look back as well. He was behind her, holding her tightly. His hand went down to her panties and he touched a small, almost invisible, line. "The mark of the birth of our child."
Poppy's eyes watered when she realized what he was doing, but she didn't stop him. Oh, thank goodness her mascara was waterproof. He trailed his hand a little higher, resting on her side where she had a scar.
"The trophy of a very courageous battle." He joked, making her giggle. That scar was nothing more than a ridiculous accident. One day, when they were still dating, she had slipped from his elevator while they were making love right there on the platform. It had been a fright for Branch and a long trip to the hospital for Poppy. A week of bed rest and a few stitches later, they both promised to hold their hormones until they were in a safe place.
Next he cupped her breasts, which he knew she had been self conscious about since she had had their son. Low cut shirts were banished from her wardrobe and push up bras had been the most important items since. It took him months to get her to lay by his side without a top and when she did, she immediately switched the lights out.
"I love them," Branch whispered in her ear, "And I'd touch them all day if you'd let me. They are perfect."
He smiled when he brushed her bangs away from her eyes. He saw a few white strands on the back of her head and wondered if she had seen them already.
His lips connected to the lines that she had tried to hide. He tenderly kissed each side of her face, trailing the small lines like he had memorized them.
"And I treasure these the most." Branch finally said, drying one of her tears that escaped from the corner of her eyes while she stared up at him, waiting from him to finish. "They are the signs that we've had years of laughter; that we can't help but smile when we're near each other. Those are tokens of our happy moments."
Her hands quickly went to her face, to feel the lines she had previously hated and Branch took the opportunity to take her hands in his.
"Wear them with pride, my love. I know I'm proud I've put them there," he grinned, making Poppy giggle between sobs.
"How do you always know what to say?" She managed to speak, having her husband to calm her down with more urgent kisses.
"Well… I guess after forty years of marriage, I'm starting to understand you." He chuckled. Poppy playfully nudged him, returning to her reflection to quickly fix her makeup. Branch stole one more kiss and planted another one on her shoulder before zipping the dress up.
He hurried to put on his royal garments. He had worn them only once when he married the Queen, but the expensive mantle quickly got forgotten inside their closet in the darkest corner of the bunker, because, as a consort, he didn't need to wear it.
"Okay, I'm ready." Poppy announced, turning around to see him. "How do I look?"
Her dress covered her feet. Her hair was up, revealing her long and slender neck. Sparkling diamond earrings shone brightly on her ears. Her crown was higher than ever and her wedding ring, engraved with his name, was on her finger like it had been for many happy decades.
With his eyes softening at the sight of his wife, Branch felt his insides melting like they always did when she spun around girlishly like that, displaying all her glory for him to see.
For many years, he always smiled and gave her the same answer.
"You look beautiful."