"Fergus!" Nyla hissed into the phone, "Listen! This morning he said he wants to-"
"What, take you to the arcade so you can cheat at foosball?"
"Oh my god, I did not cheat. You're just a sore loser ." She giggled and ran a hand over her head. "Shut up and listen to me, I need to talk about this. He wants-"
"You to wear a gimp mask?"
"No! What? For fuck's sake-"
"Good, I know how you hate a gimp mask."
"Fergus! I don't-"
"T-M-I."
"What the-" Nyla huffed. "Cut the shit, broheim or I'm mailing you a fucking bomb. Jesus. He says he wants to-"
"Get another pair of gay-ass matching shoes."
Nyla could hear him withholding laughter. Curling her lips inward, she pointed a frustrated glared at the wall. Nibbling her lip, she couldn't hold in, "And our matching gay shoes are amazing."
Fergus snorted and laughed. "Okay go ahead. I'm done."
Nyla let out a puff of air. "Jesus tapdancing christ. This morning Zevran asked me to marry him."
"Already?" He blurted.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"Fergus…"
"Okay, remember when I sat with him at the hospital while you went to see your psychiatrist? You know how the pain meds make him talk a lot?"
._.••´¯``•.¸¸.•`Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ flashback Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ`•.¸¸.•´´¯`••._.
"You're not Nyla." Zevran woke up seeing a blur of colors far too big to be her. Wait… he blinked at the dark hair and familiar gait. "Hmm."
"It's Fergus. Big Nyla, as you so eloquently stated. Still not sure why she's not small Fergus."
"She's prettier than you," Zevran spoke with a yawn. "But not by much."
Fergus rolled his eyes with a chuckle. Slipping a flask from his pocket, he took a generous swig; something to help him relax in the wake of too much time witnessing his wrecked little sister. He leaned back more comfortably in his seat with a sigh. "I take it you're feeling better?"
"Not the best," he muttered, scrubbing his face with his palms. "I keep waking afraid that I am waking from another seizure."
"No," Fergus replied gently. "You've only been sleeping. Are you still in pain?"
"No. Where is Nyla?"
"She's taking care of herself," Fergus spoke dismissively. "She'll be back shortly. And then I'm going to wave tacos under her nose and make her eat."
"Oh, good." Zevran yawned again, sitting up more to stay awake. "Nyla is good."
"She's alright, I guess." Fergus smiled, feeling weird about using body language to indicate anything to a blind man. "I was joking." ... well, that was worse. "Being sarcastic."
Zevran nodded, imagining her smile and big, dark eyes, pouty lips, the way her hips and long legs moved as she danced, and the way she just loved him so much! "Ugh! She is... so good!"
Fergus chuckled, shaking his head and taking another sip from his flask. "I hear you, buddy."
"I never thought this would happen, you know?" He spoke with a rich sigh, letting his head fall back. "I figured it was for other people."
"What's for other people?" Fergus tilted his head, watching Zevran's relaxed and pensive face.
"Love and romance and such." He thought of her. The way he felt when she was just there; the world a brighter place. When he looked at her she always looked right back at him, meeting his eyes with adoration which he mirrored, which she mirrored, which he mirrored… 'We belong together.' 'I know.' "I love her."
Fergus felt the familiar pang of longing. "I have felt similarly before. Felt fortunate to have… someone."
"Yes!" Zevran smiled, "That's exactly it. Fortunate. I keep having idyllic visions of having a family with her, but she is... resistant."
"Really? As far as I know, she wants that." Furrowing his brow in thought, he added, "At least, she used to."
"It seems losing Alistair ruined those things for her."
"I doubt that. She's probably still coping with that she found someone. I'm glad she got a second chance." After a few moments of silence he continued thoughtfully, resting his cheek on his fist. "Some of us don't. You meet that perfect person, choose to spend your life with them and when they're gone the bar is set so high... are you sleeping?"
Zevran lifted his head, "Casi. Estoy escuchando." Almost. I am listening.
Fergus chuckled. "Déjate dormir." Let yourself sleep.
"No, I wish to hear you." Zevran sat up a little more, stiffness in his back and neck making him cringe. It took a few sleepy moments for him to realize Fergus had spoken Spanish. "Nice accent."
"Learned it in College, had a lot of practice with-" Fergus couldn't talk about their family with Nyla, and getting to talk about her felt soft and good. "With my late wife, Oriana."
"Yes, but, how did you get her to marry you and also bare your children?" Wrapped in the mystery of how to acquire Nyla as his wife, the intimacy of Fergus' words was lost on him entirely.
Pressing a fist against his pursed lips, Fergus withheld laughter; a chuckle and snort escaped him and he cleared his throat to mask it. "I asked her."
"Asking. Yes." Zevran sighed, pointing his gaze at the Fergus-blur. "How did you get her to say yes?"
Breathing back the urge to laugh given the utter seriousness of Zevran's stare, he cleared his throat again. "I don't know. It made sense. It was time."
"Oh no. Shit." Zevran giggled and spoke thoughtfully, "I have to guess when it is time?"
"It wasn't a guess, per se." Fergus smiled, wondering exactly how high this man was, or how inept. "At some point you can just tell. It was a feeling."
"Damn," he tsked. "Romance is hard. See, I feel very much that it is time. I want a child and a wife. I want this with her specifically. I just keep imagining it, like little vignettes in my head. I can already see our daughter in my mind's eye and feel her in my arms. I am already picturing a wedding, picturing her barefoot in a white dress on the beach. It kind of… sucks!"
"I see, I see, because you're so sure she will never want these things with you.
"Fucking exactly," Zevran sighed. "When I speak of it with her, she ties it all into complex knots and tries to push dogs onto me. It seems such a simple thing, you know? Make a choice, be a mom, be a wife, but she says she will be a terrible mother. Said something about… not having enough energy to plan a second wedding. Dogs! I keep dismissing the idea, insisting I do not wish to have a dog and I fear she may show up one day with a dog, Fergus, I do not wish to have a dog."
"She's trying to compromise, to give you something to nurture," Fergus replied with a shrug.
"Not the same. I do not wish to have a baby just so I can clean up shit and listen to it whine. I want to fucking love it like one loves a child, not a pet . How is this so far fetched?"
"It's really not. When we had our son… holding Oren in my arms for the first time… I don't even have words for it."
"See? That. I want that. The thing there are no words for." Zevran nodded. "Now I need her to want it too, so we can have it together."
"Okay, I see. I see." Fergus sat up in his chair, eager to help him understand his sister, and dissuade him from becoming discouraged. "What we know of Nyla. She was with Alistair for six years-"
"Jesus christ."
"Right. Exactly." Fergus agreed, taking another sip from his flask. "It took her like, four years to even choose him. And then she wanted a two-year-long engagement. A wedding scheduled for after they completed university. They were less than a year from graduating, and then, as you know-"
"Shit. He died."
"Yes." Fergus nodded, "As well as everyone else. So, Nyla is on the cusp of beginning her adult life away from her parents, and it vanishes. Lost almost all of her people, and, you know... her sanity."
"She told me." Zevran nodded sadly. "Such dark times for her."
"Really? She told you that she attempted to kill herself several times?"
"Fucking several?" She had only mentioned the two, and he was left baffled. "What? Like, several?"
"Um. Wait. No. I mean who's counting? Seven. Anyway that's not my point," he babbled in his regret, hoping Zevran would lose this part of the conversation in a haze of pain medication. "My point is, she was not at all prepared to lose. In fact, the closer she gets to you-"
"The more scared she becomes?" Zevran's heart ached for her.
"Yes, the more she starts feeling attachment and a sense of belonging, the more she remembers what it was like to have those things abruptly taken from her."
"Shit! This is why she gets close and pulls away. Makes mention of having babies and then tries to throw dogs at me."
"Precisely."
"She is not ready."
"Yet. She had a family, included them, lost them. Now she has an entire different life. You don't have to be what she had. You don't have to be Alistair."
"Fergus," Zevran sighed, glaring. "All these words, and your big message is be yourself? "
"I guess so." He paused for a moment to drink. "You have done a lot for her. She and I wouldn't even be in each others lives right now if you hadn't intervened. Let me just say, big brothers everywhere want to see their sisters have what you two share. I want you two to-"
"Hey." Nyla walked in, and with a breathy sigh she placed her purse and keys on the table.
"Hello!" Fergus spoke awkwardly loud, grabbing a paper bag and holding it out to her. "Tacos?"
´¯``•.¸¸.•`Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ end flashback Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ`•.¸¸.•´´¯`
"Yes," Nyla spoke patiently. "I know how talky he gets on his meds- oh god what did he say?"
After a long pause for thought, Fergus wasn't sure quite where to begin or if he even should. "It's complicated."
"Did he do the thing where he asked you for my hand?" She rolled her eyes.
"No, no. Nothing like that. I was hitting the flask a bit, we got chatty, I got to know him a little better and, honestly, you should marry him."
"Don't you 'should' me, Fergus." Nyla fumed, "Oh my god. Leaving my drunk ass brother with my sick boyfriend. God damn."
"Okay fine, I won't 'should' you. But…" he waited a few moments for added drama. "You should marry him."
"This isn't helpful. I need to talk about it," she spoke, exasperated and pacing the kitchen. "Before he wakes from his nap."
"Alright. Go ahead."
"I thought we had agreed it was off the table." Nyla continued her nervous pacing. "I have always said I don't want that... stuff."
"What do you mean?" Fergus asked calmly. "You wanted it with Alistair."
"Yeah but..." she stammered, feeling as if slapped in the face. "I said I didn't want it. I'm different now."
"If by different you mean extra," he taunted playfully.
"I don't want to…" she stammered again, biting her lip for a moment. "Deal with the… commitment…"
"You're already committed. Like a penguin. Following your typical pattern. Pick one, and tenaciously cling to him. Just like with Alistair."
Nyla's heart leaped, and she felt a sudden urge to cry. "I'm gonna go now." She hung up on him and silenced her phone. Too much.
Dragging herself across the kitchen and into the living room, she felt so very heavy, her heart sore. Fear rested in her empty belly and she felt the desire to cry. Sitting on the couch, Nyla tucked one leg beneath her, the other leg bent so she could have something to hug.
She stared wide eyed at the blank screen of their television affixed to the wall. They had chosen it together. They decided where they wanted a TV, and then fucking put it there, like the couch beneath her. Nyla rocked herself gently, nibbling her lower lip.
Every item in every room meticulously, purposefully selected, because Zevran loved having things and Nyla didn't like clutter. Together they bought the perfect amount of stuff and put it all in the perfect places. We built this as partners.
Thinking back, she had been entirely too unclear on her desires, with herself as well as with her partner. She didn't want to look at it, but the ache in her heart which manifested itself as a literal pain in her chest pulled her attention.
I'm failing as a partner the more I avoid this.
Wasn't it unfair to dismiss Zevran's dreams as if they hadn't been her own? What message was she giving him; that he was less than Alistair? Less worthy?
Holding her head in her hands, she wept, grieving the loss of her former life a little more; their abandoned wedding, the nest they were supposed to build, their children who had lived such full lives in her mind's eye; she had been widowed as she had been orphaned and she feared it would happen again. I barely survived it the first time...
Cat chirped and sat next to her, reminding her of her life, the home she built with her partner, Zevran sleeping in their bed. Am I really letting my fear own me? This is no way to live.
"Hi, baby," she whispered to her kitty with a sniffle; she stood and walked to their bedroom. "Zev?" She spoke tearfully, crawling across their bed.
"Nyla?" He startled awake and sat up. Reaching out to touch her, his hand landed on her shoulder and he lovingly caressed her arm. "Crying, amor?"
Her heart beat hard and heat spread to her cheeks and across her chest. She asked him breathlessly, "Will you marry me?"
He sat in stunned silence, taking a few moments to feel what it was like to hear those words from her. "I thought you would never ask."
"So… yeah?" She sniffled with a smile when he responded with a nod. "Today. Just us."
Tossing away any dreams of a wedding on the beach surrounded by friends and family he pulled her into a hug, and he spoke in awe of the moment, "Of course, Nyla. Yes."
With arms wrapped snug around each other, she wept, and he offered her stillness and time. So wild, so ridiculous, every day with her was a new ride, and now she wanted to take this journey with him; he did not at all expect this, and if he were being honest, he didn't ever expect it. She shifted in his arms, her cheek nuzzling against his.
"Want to talk about this, amor?" He giggled, basking in her affections, her lips brushing his jaw. He certainly wanted to talk about it, and when she nodded, he felt relieved. Did she forget he was blinded with questionable recovery? "I very much wish to understand this."
"I had to let go of more stuff... before I could take on more stuff," Nyla laced her fingers through his hair. "It feels right. Now feels right."
"What if my sight never returns?"
"We learn to live like other people in the same predicament, and I will keep loving you."
With a rich sigh, he was able to let go of the fear he didn't know he had been living with; the permanent loss of his eyes wouldn't mean the eventual loss of her, after all. Zevran giggled, feeling her smile and her wet cheek against his; having no eyes brought up other ways of communicating tenderness, which he basked in. "You have no doubts, brave Nyla?"
"None," she whispered.
Excitement hit him, and it felt unreal; was he really getting what he wanted? "You are choosing me?"
"Is this what it takes for you to feel chosen, my love?"
"I guess so," he whispered, feeling his chest ache and swell.
"I choose you, pumpkin," Nyla crooned, her lips brushing against his for a moment before devouring them.
"If you keep-" he hummed as her lips met his for another kiss so rich it made his toes curl, "kissing me-" They kissed again, and she took his face between her hands, "like this-" he chuckled and groaned as she straddled him. With an appreciative hum, he grabbed her ass and pulled her closer.
"You're right," she spoke breathlessly, taking just one more kiss. "If we start now we'll be here all day. We have to get going."
"You're fucking serious?" Zevran laughed, reality hitting him with another burst of excitement. "We are going to do this right now?"
"Matching butterfly shoes?" She replied playfully, hopping up from his lap.
"Yes." Zevran couldn't help his smile as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed. "And the leather jackets we wore the day we met."
"Romantic!" She called from his closet, rapidly gathering what he needed. "How about entire matching outfits?"
"Fuck yes," he responded, laughing in giddy excitement as several garments landed in his lap. "We haven't even been outside other than the rooftop since I got home, amor!"
"Shit, you're right." She pulled on her shirt, grabbed her brush and stood in front of Zevran. "Don't move," she spoke urgently, and began brushing his hair. "You want the braids, pumpkin?"
"Yes!" He smiled, feeling her nimble fingers graze his temple as she braided his hair. "What time is it? Do we know what we're doing?"
"It's quarter after two. We'll go to the city hall and see what happens." She tethered his braids behind his head. "They might be too busy, we might get there too late, but we're going to have fun trying." After tying his shoes, she took his hands and guided him to standing.
Holding his hand, she guided him through the house at a quick pace, and he trusted her to not let him knock into anything; it was nerve wracking. Together, they slipped on their matching leather jackets.
"We'll get a Lyft so we don't have to find parking," Nyla pulled out her phone.
You alright, pup?
Yeah good thanks
What happened?
Nothing busy ttyl
Now I know you're up to no good.
Shut the fuck up
"Told Fergus to shut the fuck up, got the Lyft… three minutes wait and it'll save us an hour."
"Good thinking." Zevran swallowed nervously when the front door chimed and she grabbed his hand. "Sunglasses?
"In my purse. It's overcast today."
"Wait," he pulled back as she tugged on him. "They... make me feel safe, amor. I would like to wear them."
Nyla stopped and reached into her purse. "Here," she crooned, sliding them over his temples and gently resting them on the bridge of his nose. "I didn't know. Anything else?"
"Walking fast makes me feel like I am going to run into things." He reached toward her and she caught his hand, rested it on her cheek.
"We'll take it slow." Pressing a kiss to the thumb tracing her lips she continued, "Can we go get married now?"
"I still cannot believe you," he giggled, his heart quivering in his chest. She linked his arm with hers and they stepped outside.
"I don't know how to be a seeing-eye person, honey, but I promise I won't let you get hurt." She locked the door and turned him around. "Stairs… six of them."
Finding the first was no problem, finding the last was awkward. Zevran found the colorful blur of outside overwhelming when compared to the familiar blur of his home, so he closed his eyes. Sounds happened around him, and he had to rely on Nyla to make sure he wasn't standing in the road or in someone's path; he clung tight to her arm.
"Nervous?" Nyla asked, noticing his puckered brow and the iron grip on her arm.
"About several things, yes." He sighed, grabbing her hand and bringing it to his mouth for a quick kiss. "Holding your arm is very soothing."
"I'm glad. I promise I won't let go of you. Here's our Lyft. Hold my hand, and the curb is two paces in front of you."
With her hand on his head, they got in the car without incident, Nyla sat in the middle seat to be close to him, and he wrapped his arm around her. They rode in silence, exchanging affectionate touches, toying with each others fingers, Nyla's nose brushed against his cheek with a giggle. The song Unconditionally played on the car radio; mood music that had him in tears. Damn you, Katy Perry!
"My life is a trope," Zevran laughed, nipping her lip as she tried to steal another kiss.
"Ow!" Nyla giggled until he let go. "You little shit. Oh my god, you're even eloping! Your life is a trope."
"See?" he spoke with a wide grin, and it hit him again. "We're eloping!"
"I know! Oh. We're here, pumpkin. I'll come around and help you." Running around the car, she swung the door open. "Come on, baby," she crooned, taking his hand and covering his head with the other. "Thank you for the ride!"
"Congrats on eloping!" The driver waved with a smile.
"Thank you!" Nyla and Zevran called back, laughing their way to the curb.
"Step up, Zev!" Flawless. He held tight to her arm and they walked for a short time. "Stairs. Let's take it slow, they're… awkward, wide stairs. Does keeping your eyes closed help?"
"Yes. Since the blur often has trails, and vision cuts are startling, the dark is far more pleasant."
"It's like your eyes are chaos," she spoke softly, watching his serene face with rapt attention. "I'm sorry."
He smiled, stroking the arm linked with his. "Yes. It is the worst, amor."
"Last step, I'll get the door. Don't let go of me."
He chuckled as she rushed them along faster. "First Nyla says no and now she is in such a hurry!"
Nyla stopped walking and wrapped her arms around his waist. "We're in line."
"Oh shit." Zevran chuckled, holding her tight. "This is crazy, amor, listen, my girlfriend woke me up an hour ago and now I am marrying her."
"That is crazy! What's gotten into her?" She guided them a step forward and snuggled into him. "Zev? What did you and my brother talk about in the hospital? He wouldn't tell me."
"I asked him how to convince you to marry me." Zevran rolled his eyes with a tsk and spoke incredulously, "He said for me to be myself. I hate it when people say this. Who the fuck else would I be?"
Nyla stared at him with a furrowed brow and moved them one step forward. "That was adorable. You're fucking adorable."
"I am serious! What, does he think, I put the Zevran on hold while I woo?" He huffed.
"I'm keeping you forever." Staring at him with wide eyes, she could not believe how fucking adorable one person could be. "I can't even…"
"Can I help you?"
Nyla startled, her heart leaped into her throat, and her brain slowed to a crawl. "I… uh… we, like... "
"This dork and I wish to marry right now."
"Sorry," the clerk spoke apologetically, "You should have made an appointment. The only thing we have available is the Mayor's Balcony and it's $1,002 plus $99 for licensing fees and the-"
"Sounds good I have money," Nyla blurted, snatching the form from the clerk's outstretched hand. "Thank you!"
"You're welcome." The clerk chuckled and waved her along. "Step aside, fill this out, and bring it back. You have about thirty minutes."
"This way, Zev." She tugged his arm and he followed. "I think I got most of this…" she spoke, hastily filling out each field in her neatest hand.
Zevran stood close to her with a palm on her lower back. Footfalls echoed around him, people often brushed against his back as they passed. "I wish I could see what you are doing."
"It's fairly simple. Your name. My name. Birthdays. Oh." Nyla side-eyed Zevran, having completely forgotten; "What's our last name going to be?"
"Arainai." Zevran spoke with a nod.
"Cousland-Arainai?" Nyla chanced to ask, and he responded with a disagreeable hum. "Arainai-Cousland?"
"Nooo!" He whined.
"Alright, alright," she smiled at his tightly furrowed brow, and resumed her writing. "Nyla-"
"Arainai."
"I'm writing it!" She chuckled.
"Promise?"
"Yes!"
"I will find out, and then make you do the paperwork to fix."
"Pumpkin." She smirked and leaned in close to purr, "Calm. Your bosom. And now I just have to fill in this extra field to change your name to Pumpkin Arainai."
"Might as fucking well," he chuckled, nuzzling his cheek against her head.
He waited patiently for her to finish. Kissing her temple, holding her close, dragging fingertips along her smiling face. Reaching into his jacket pocket he pulled out his chapstick and dragged a thin layer onto her dry, pouty lips.
"Love you," he whispered, and she responded in turn with a breathy tone and a broad smile.
"Love you. Done." She kissed his cheek. "Wait right here."
He held to her. "Zevran very much prefers to stay with you."
"Alright. Hold onto my waist, baby," she crooned, taking three steps to their right, and he stayed with her. "Okay we're done with the form. Does everything look right?"
"It felt further when we left," Zevran spoke softly with a giggle. He should have known she wouldn't have gone far, but he rather would be right where he was, resting his forehead on the back of her head, smelling her hair, feeling her warmth and softness against his chest while she discussed the particulars with the clerk. Wife. Her fingers laced with his hand around her waist, and she stroked him with her thumb. He focused on the sensation, wondering what this place looked like, what she looked like. Did she look happy and refreshed? Did she have those cute little wisps of hair out of place?
"Hey. Pumpkin." Nyla turned her head, "Honey? Hold onto my arm."
"Mmm?" He snapped out of his reverie and moved to hold her arm. "Where are we going? I wasn't listening."
"It's time to get married," she whispered, leaning toward him as they walked. "We're following the officiator and our witness to the Mayor's Balcony."
"Holy shit," he whispered back. "My heart is pounding."
"Mine too, honey."
Zevran leaned close and continue to whisper, "This is a big fucking deal."
"Since we don't have rings, we're just going to do the vows thing, it will be short and sweet. Just like you. Stairs, hold on, baby," she spoke lovingly. They stopped and she took his right hand and rested it on the railing. "I'll go your pace, and I'll tell you when we're approaching the last step. "
"Thank you, mi vida," he whispered softly to his sweet woman. With arms joined, Zevran focused on the warmth of her, the cool railing beneath his palm, echoing footfalls and distant voices.
"Almost there, Zevran. Three… two…"
She guided him toward their right and they walked for a short time, the officiator telling them where to stop.
"I'll be officiating your marriage today." After a short pause she added playfully, "Big turn out."
Zevran, while having his finger on the pulse of a good joke, couldn't say anything as he felt his bride standing in front of him; her soft, warm hands in his.
"If you're ready…"
"Not yet," Nyla spoke up. "We just need a moment alone, please."
"Sure, just wave at me."
"Okay, amor?" He asked, caressing her fingers with his.
"I want you to take the sunglasses off and look at me. I know you can't see much, but if you can bear it, I'd like to see you."
"Okay, amor," he smiled and nodded.
Nyla removed his sunglasses, folded them, and put them in her purse. "Open your eyes, Zev," she whispered, and when he did, the anticipated blur was closer than he expected, and he startled with a chuckle.
"Hola, amor. You probably look lovely right now."
"Of course," she chuckled tearfully. "Does this feel alright?"
Zevran nodded, and Nyla waved for their officiant's attention.
"Make it the quick one, alright?" Nyla giggled. "I want to be married like, an hour ago."
"Zevran and Nyla, today you celebrate one of life's greatest moments and give recognition to the worth and beauties of love, as you join together in the vows of marriage. Zevran, do you take Nyla, to be your Wife?"
"I do," he breathed, his heart leaping as he subtly trembled.
"Do you promise to love, honor, cherish and protect her, forsaking all other and holding only unto her?"
"I do," he repeated with a nod, holding tighter to her hands, nervous sweat on his palms, heat along his skin.
"Nyla, do you take Zevran to be your Husband?"
Freeing one of her hands, she rested her palm beneath his chin, and their eyes grew moist. "A little more," she whispered, guiding his head gently. "A little to the left…"
The head tilt; sometimes it worked, and sometimes Zevran gave himself a sore neck trying to find the sweet spot.
He saw her smiley, pink face with picture perfect clarity. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she giggled happily at the recognition in his gaze. He wept with a gleeful chuckle; he couldn't help himself. She was lovely, she had those cute little wisps of hair out of place, she looked rested and happy and perfect.
"I do."
He would never forget the velvety sound of her voice, the adoration in her gaze, her happy tears, the O shape of her pouty lips as she spoke the words, the gentleness of her fingers beneath his chin. I need to paint this.
"Do you promise to love, honor, cherish and protect him, forsaking all other and holding only unto him?"
"I do," she crooned tearfully, her shoulders trembling subtly as if a weight lifted from her.
"It will take faith to be willing to go forward to tomorrow never really knowing what tomorrow will bring. It will take commitment to hold true to the journey you both now pledge to share together. Zevran and Nyla, in so much as the two of you have agreed to live together in Matrimony, have promised your love for each other by these vows, I now declare you to be Husband and Wife. Congratulations, you may kiss your bride."
Their lips met for the sweetest and most satisfying of kisses. Arms wrapped around each other, palms on damp cheeks, deep sighs through noses as they melted together. A kiss they would always remember as not only their most important kiss, but also refer to as their best work, because they were nothing if not incredibly silly.
"Te amo," Nyla spoke breathlessly when they melted out of their perfect kiss.
"Te amo, Nyla," he whispered, longing for the blur to dissipate, just to see her with the ease he used to only a month prior.
Their fingers laced together, hands clasped tight; they stood tall together, happy and proud. Zevran lifted her hand to press a quick kiss to her fingers.
With a deep sniffle and a satisfied sigh, Nyla looked at her husband and smiled. For the first time in so long Zevran heard her say, "I want tacos."
Author's Note:
I commission a lot of art for this story, and this site doesn't allow me to share it. If you would like to see the art, find me on tumblr under TurboOtaku, I tag everything for my pairing as #Zevla.
Alternatively, you can follow me on Archive of Our Own under TurboNerd, where I embed the art in the chapters.