Writing Club
Character Appreciation - 38. Pureblood
Disney Challenge - Eric - Write a Royalty!AU
Book Club - Miles Richter - (object) jacket, (trait) intelligent, (action) limping
Showtime - All I Care About - (object) Diamond ring
CYB - (word) Permission
Lyric Alley - But we took the step, and we took the leap
TV Show of the Month - Anya Jenkins - (pairing) Terry/Su Li, (item) money, (dialogue) "Look I know you find me attractive. I've seen you looking at my breasts."
Other Challenges
Quilting Appreciation - Neville/Daphne
Creativity Month - Muggle!AUs - Royal!AU
Caffeine Awareness - English Coffee - Royalty!AU
Crafty Cooking - Pineapple - Royalty!AU
Insane House- 868. Trait- Lucky
Library Lovers - The Cuckoo's Calling - (Plot Point) Getting engaged, (Location) Balcony, (Item) Silk, green dress
Royal!AU
Neville fingers the diamond ring in his pocket. Tonight is a very pivotal, momentous time for him, and as much he is looking forward to it, he is also dreading it, if fiddling with the buttons of his suit jacket wasn't a clear enough indication.
Obtaining permission from her parents had not been easy. They had been demurred at first, and it had taken a lot of persuasion and large sum of money before they finally consented. It's a lucky thing that he's intelligent and as a royal, had been taught how to wheedle. But Neville was still having qualms.
What if this was a terrible idea? What if she said no? What if—
Click-clack. A pair of green heels entering his line of vision interrupted his string of thoughts. His eyes dragged upwards, up silky smooth legs, emerald fabric, and a pair of voluptuous—
"Look, I know you find me attractive. I've seen you looking at my breasts," quips an amused voice, cutting through his fantasies. "There's no need to drool anymore."
Neville tears his eyes away and flushes scarlet as Daphne strides towards. She looks beautiful, exceptionally beautiful, and Neville feels a wave of queasiness wash over him.
"Oh hush," he says, his face burning. "You know I can't resist you when you look like that."
"Exactly, which is why I use that to my advantage," she shoots back. "Anyway, why did you ask me to come here wearing nice clothes?"
"I think we had different interpretations of the word 'nice'," he answers, gesturing to her attire. "Regardless, I think you'll be fine. It's only a picnic."
Daphne appraises the layout around him. "This is quite a feast."
He shrugs. "Nothing but the best for you, my love."
"Aw, no fair." She pouts. "I hate when you're so sweet. It turns me on, in a way."
Neville withholds a smirk and a reply of "I know." He simply pats the ground beside him and Daphne gracefully sits, crossing her legs and her dress splaying out around her.
"You want to know a secret?" he whispers conspiratorially. "The royal chefs actually owe me a favor. They were more than delighted to cater our date, but they gave me more than necessary."
Now he's getting into his rhythm.
"Well, lucky us," she murmurs, licking her lips tantalizingly and Neville swallows. Her mouth hovers close to his own and he can feel her breath tickling the corner of his lips. He leans in, expecting a kiss, and so does she.
And then, at the last second, pulls away. "We'd better get started," she says, a smirk tugging at her lips.
Neville stares, speechless/
That little minx.
"That was quite some meal," Daphne says as she wipes her mouths with her napkin, leaving a smear of red lipstick. "But it was delicious. Thank your cooks for me."
Neville doesn't reply. A herd of butterflies has re-entered his stomach and beating their wings rapidly. He dips one finger into his pocket and is relieved when he feels the band.
"You know, I wonder what happened to Su Li," Daphne abruptly brings up. "Last I heard, she and Terry were going to get married."
Neville's heart does a little back-flip. There is his segue.
"Speaking of which, there's something I want to ask you," he says, a little breathless.
"Sure, go ahead."
The speech he had composed and meticulously memorized slips out of his head and he can't think.
How did it go...?
Daphne gazes at him curiously. "Well?" she prompts.
To hell with it, he thinks and takes a deep breath, gets on one knee, and Daphne's hands fly to her mouth.
"Daphne Greengrass, will you marry me?"
She knocks him back with her answer. Quite literally.
"Neville, I...yes!" she cries, throwing herself at him. Neville grunts as her body weight slams into him.
"Ow!" he yelps as his leg bends an awkward way.
"Oh!" she gasps, rolling off of him. "Did I hurt you?"
In his haze of pain, he sees her beauty in all of its heavenly glory: ebony hair mussed, sapphire eyes glistening. And he thinks, I'm a lucky man.
"N-Yup," he groans as he struggles to get his feet, pain pulsing through his leg.
"Ohmygod, I'm so sorry!" she cries, backing away.
"It's okay, you were elated," he squeezes out between his gritted teeth.
He manages to stand and limps over to Daphne. He leans on the terrace's railing.
It's a gorgeous night. The breeze breathes on the back of his neck and Daphne intertwines their fingers.
"You know I'm sorry, right?"
"I know."
And that's how they forgive each other. By communication.
She likes it simple and nontheatrical. Yet she is intricate, complex. It's confusing. But that's what made him fall for her among a multitude of quality traits.
And he's grateful that she loves him in spite of his occasional inelegance, his sporadic speech impediment.
Unconditional love.
820 words