My hands shook with a violent agitation that crept up my arms and up my neck, casting a blush across my cheeks and down my neck. Around and beneath my hands, Sebastian's fingers squeezed mine with a steady reassurance. My eyes met his as I stopped focusing on our hands, and the warmth that greeted me felt overflowing with a brilliant radiance that made even the sun ashamed. To the side of us, Mayor Lewis stood, officiating with an almost pompous authority, his voice droning on in its almost pleasant quality. We were nearly there.

I snapped to attention as Lewis said our names, and I knew that the moment had come. "As the mayor of Pelican Town and regional bearer of the matrimonial seal, I now pronounce you wife and husband!" He paused and gave us a knowing glance. "You may kiss."

Cheers went up from the townsfolk before us, but I hardly heard them as Sebastian pulled me close and my heart raced. He kissed me deeply, and the world fell away as it always did with him. Normally I would have felt uncomfortable at such a kiss in front of so many eyes, but there was an elation in him that infected me with a frivolous intensity.

As we finally broke apart, I thought my eyes would brim over with joyful tears. The crowd was already dispersing as white confetti fluttered through the air. Of course, everyone had to get ready for the flower festival.

My parents hadn't been able to make it out on such short notice, but Sebastian and I had promised to drive out and visit them this coming weekend.

"Are you okay taking that much time away from your work?" I had asked, brow furrowed and hands wringing.

He had nodded solemnly. "It's important to you. I'll make it work." A sort of pride had straightened his back then. "We should make your parents feel as much a part of our wedding as possible."

My dear, sweet husband. What a catch. I sighed contentedly as I watched him say goodbye to Sam and Abigail.

Life is going to be different from now on, I thought. But the future looks bright!

Hand in hand, Sebastian and I meandered our way out of the town square. I sensed how uncomfortable he was in his tuxedo, and admittedly I felt similarly about my white dress. Besides, there would be time later to clean things up. We were, after all, not going to be attending today's festival as far as I knew.

The sun shone above us with a soft intensity that draped itself over our shoulders like a mantle, marking us as king and queen of the morning. It was funny, I thought, given how we were naturally creatures of the night.

As we reached the edge of our property Sebastian stopped and looked about himself, eyes wide, lips parted.

"I still can't believe it," he said, quiet and slightly breathless. "This is my home now. With you."

I nodded and tried to see the farm and our house through his eyes. The crops lay in rows, bright and bursting in many cases, and beyond them, the barns and coops lay like guardians watching over us. It was still so early in the day, but the cows, chickens, ducks, pigs, goats, and sheep were all wandering around without an air of sleepiness. At the far edges of the property, silos and windmills stood towering, casting shadows like fingers raking the land, their colouring warm and inviting. To the north, a small area had been cleared for Sebastian's motorcycle, which he would be riding over later in the week. And of course, my house—our house—sat expectantly before us, sprawling and welcoming, if not a little dated in its detailing.

"Go ahead," I said, gesturing for him to enter as we worked our way up the steps. "It's not locked."

With a moment's hesitation, he nodded and pushed the door open.

He wandered through the living room, his gaze lingering on the wide screen television flanked by a sofa and armchair. I was suddenly self-conscious about my décor choices which suddenly seemed rather haphazard. But Sebastian didn't comment on it.

"Oh, your stuff is in an area all for you." I led him to our bedroom, which suddenly seemed gratuitously spacious. Sunlight trickled in through the few windows I had installed, illuminating the dresser and plants I had placed without much thought.

And there sat my bed, which was now also his bed. I remembered how I had wished so often to just fall asleep in his bed and not have to worry about returning home at the end of the night. It was a strange, but wholly pleasant thought realizing that tonight would mark the first of many nights together. There would be no more pausing, no more consideration for how early I would have to be up in the morning, and no more regretful goodbyes lining the ends of our nights. The sheer extent of our shared future stretched before me, expansive and inevitable.

"It was so nice of your mom to build this little addition so quickly," I said, running my hand along the seam in the wall that had not existed a mere three days ago. "I'm glad you'll have an area that's all your own that you can work at." I gestured with my chin at his computer. "I haven't been the best at keeping up-to-date with the latest tech, admittedly."

He bobbed his head and stood, hands tucked into his pockets, surveying his new home. "Yeah, it already feels like home." Although I couldn't see his face, I heard the grin in his voice. He started to wander towards the kitchen. "I didn't realize you had an upper level even."

"Mmhm," I murmured, following after him. "I don't really use it. This place is way too big for one person." He mounted the stairs ahead of me. "Even for the two of us, I don't think we'll fill the space."

He stopped, taking in the small rec room I had slovenly put together. I realized with a jolt what my wallpaper was: a city skyline against a delicate sunset. I had a few bookshelves along the wall, one of which I had already put most of Sebastian's books onto. A small table sat in the corner, flanked by some pillows to sit on, and along the opposite wall, a sofa sat drenched in sunlight. "This is a great room for reading and playing games."

I laughed. "I need more games to put in here, but yeah, this is my little rec room. I don't spend much time here, but I guess that'll change now that I won't be over at your place."

He pointed at the small hallway that led off the room. "What's in there?"

"Oh," I shrugged, feeling my face go red. "That's another bedroom."

"May I?"

I waved a hand. "Of course! This is as much your house now as it is mine."

He cast a smile at me before he ventured forward. "Oh," he breathed.

"I can explain," I bleated hurriedly. "Your mom threw in the crib and the little beds for free. They were some side projects she had been working on that she wasn't keen on selling." I paused, chewing on my lower lip. "They were a gift. She figured that for a place this big, it made sense that a family would live here. At least, eventually."

He turned to face me, eyebrows raised. "This must have happened while we were dating."

"Uh," I hesitated, my mind racing for an answer. "Yes."

Laughter burst out of him, nervous but not unkind. "Oh, mom. She really likes you, you know that? And I guess this is her way of saying she wants grandkids."

I didn't think my face could burn redder, but it did.

"Oh," he stopped laughing abruptly as my silence swallowed me. "I don't want you to feel pressured." He paused, a look of concern stealing across his face. "My mom should never have forced these baby things on you. I apologize on her behalf."

I bit my bottom lip. Curse that Rasmodius. Had he really foreseen all of this? "No, no, it's okay." He quirked an eyebrow at me. "It's just—" I hesitated, taking in my husband's curious expression. "I used to never want kids. I didn't want to have my own family. It seemed impossible, you know?" I sighed softly. "But meeting you, I don't know, something changed." My shoulders raised and lowered as I chewed the inside of my lips. "With you, I think it would be worth it, starting a family and raising our own little monsters to take on the world." I stopped and took in the blush that had found its way back to Sebastian's cheeks. "I just—I just don't think now is necessarily the right time."

"Of course," he said, voice low and ripe with emotion. His gaze was intense and I had to remind myself that as of less than an hour ago, this intensity was all mine. "So we'll wait for when it's the right time. Like when we met," he paused as his hands grasped my own, "it was exactly the right time."

How funny, I thought, for us to have met when we did. It felt as though it had been ages ago when he had first confided his desire to move to the city in the kitchen of his house. And there I had been, talking to his mother, wondering how a week had gone by and I still hadn't met everyone yet. Small things, innocent things, and yet a relationship had developed between us that had turned out to be all-encompassing, life-changing.

"Yes," I murmured, nodding slightly, "it was exactly right."

As we shared our second kiss as a married couple it struck me then: I was completely, wholeheartedly, overwhelmingly at peace. There were no obsidian claws tracing my consciousness, no growls of malcontent lurking in my gut. I knew in my heart, in my very core, that I was exactly where I belonged. Over the course of a year, the valley had become my home, and its residents had accepted me into their fold. And sure, I wasn't friends with all of them, but I was friends with enough. After everyone's initial misgivings, somehow I had been able to weather the uncertainty and win them over to a comfortable tolerance. They were good people, by and large, and I was thankful that neither I nor them had given up on the other.

It had not been an easy year with all the ups and downs and growing pains of adjustment, but as I looked at the man before me, I knew with a strange confidence that it all had been worth it. The tears, the nightmares, the loneliness—none of it mattered now. They all were part of my story, but not a part of me, not anymore.

Goodbye, wretched beast, I thought, and though I hadn't spoken aloud, Sebastian gave me a suspiciously knowing smile.

*So," he said softly, "you're sure you don't want to go to the flower festival?"

I nodded. "Not unless you want to."

He shook his head, a sigh of relief escaping him. "No, no. I'm just thankful." His embrace tightened.

I grinned. "I get it." Raising an eyebrow at him, I continued, "Do you remember what I said we'd say to the God of Flowers this year?"

His lips curved into a smile. "'Not today.'" And he kissed me again.