Forgotten Instincts

by farore-or-less

Having been torn from Hylia and her sealing power, Zelda travels with Link as a companion to appease the corrupted Divine Beasts, but she must hide her identity because his memory is gone & mentality hanging by a thread. She has to live under an alias until his memory of her returns, even if that means he's falling in love with the woman she's pretending to be. (POV Link & Zelda)

8. Home

Chapter Summary: No summary needed because it's the daily-life chapter that everyone's been waiting for

Content Warning: swearing, masturbation, sexual content, and...drunk Link anyone? —No? Just me then.

If anyone wants to gush about the new BOTW 2 trailer with me, head over to my tumblr (farore-or-less) & we'll cry together.

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Living with Zel is both a treat and a chore.

She leaves her empty dishes around for Link to clean up and there's almost always stacks of books scattered across the dining table that he has to organize and put away. Zel is a night owl and an early bird (because she doesn't sleep), so sometimes he'll wake to the sounds of her clanking around the hearth area, sink, or icebox, crunching on honeyed apples or cutting the recent bread he's baked, and the noise will only make him hungry for whatever she's nibbling on. It's also astonishing how she can create massive piles of dirty laundry with the small amount of clothes she possesses, will forget to close cabinet doors, and she always manages to track mud in the house after he just swept.

But the adoring treats she blesses him with make up for every little annoyance that begins to eat at him. Zel picks fresh wildflowers every morning to place into the small vases she purchased secondhand and the house is now cluttered with plants that she transplanted into pots of various sizes and colors. She'll bring home a new plant baby at least every other day, educating him on the type of species it is; "this is an air purifier," and, "this one's a succulent," or, "you'll like this one, it's called Calathea lancifolia —the rattlesnake plant."

They both have become heavily invested and thoroughly distracted in making their home the perfect place to live. Link instantly began repairing the leaky roof with the assistance of Bolson's crew, and Zel created a design to build a hearth with a wood fired oven that Link was extremely giddy about. They connected a stone flue to the old crooked chimney atop their roof and then moved the cooking pot from the lawn into it. If Link isn't outside working on numerous tasks, he's most likely inside cooking, baking, or experimenting with canning and pickling.

With much assistance from the construction company, they managed to create a room underneath the loft by busting down an area of the wall, adding a few extra support beams and closing it off with a wooden door. Link suggested that Zel use the new room as her private bedroom since they've been taking turns sleeping between their bedrolls and the soft double bed he ordered from Bolson. There was a mix up with the order: Link asked for two beds, but received a bed for two people instead. Bolson seemed so confused when Link approached him about the issue and said; "you're telling me that two hot single people like yourselves are not a couple? My, oh my, what a strange world."

Bolson's dragging his feet with the new order —said it would take an extra month to receive the necessary frame, so Zel told him to forget it. When the downstairs room was finished, Zel hesitantly moved her bedroll into the empty room while Link sleeps just upstairs tossing and turning, wondering why he has a hard time falling asleep now. Every morning, he forgets that Zel's bedroll used to be beside the balustrade, like it was before the room was finished, and each time he wakes to realize that she's not there, he's slightly disappointed.

Contrary to the bed situation, it was a happy surprise to discover that the small shack in the backyard was actually an outhouse the previous owners had built as an extra addition, though the toilet needed plumbing repairs and the bath tub needed to be replaced entirely. During one of their weekly trips to the Hateno flea market, Zel stumbled upon a gorgeous copper and clawfoot tub and managed to haggle down the price. Later that day, they had struggled to move it into their outhouse, but once they did, they both spent over an hour together, sitting fully clothed in the empty tub, sharing a cold drink and laughing, dangling their feet off the sides. Link thinks about that memory all the time.

When the hearth and oven was fully built, a sink installed, and the bathroom remodeled, Link asked a few neighbors for assistance on creating a garden —something he's been wanting since he left Kakariko. Several farmers jumped at the opportunity to help; sharing farm equipment and offering to plow, giving gardening advice and extra soil. Nearby their small pond in Sasha and Jassa's pasture, he created a large garden with a few rows for perennials and several for annuals, organizing and designing, humming and singing, and one day Zel came home with a large sun hat for him. She laughed when he put it on, but he didn't care. He loved it.

With all the new critters starting to conjure around their home because of his garden, Zel discussed with him about the possibility of having a bee home placed somewhere on their property. She told him that bees were essential to pollination, that it will contribute to restoring harmony between Hylian's and nature, and simply because "they're fascinating!" —but Link was still weary. He doesn't like insects. Every time there's a spider in the house, he'd stand frozen, staring at it until Zel noticed his paralysis, then she'd blow out an irritated exhale and say, "I'll get a cup."

Eventually, he caved, and soon she had built a beautiful miniature bee home on the edge of their property that was quickly occupied by a queen and her worker bees. The idea made Link design a few hanging homes for birds, and so now on every tree that grows on their property, there's a bird's house dangling from a branch. It wasn't long until a small family of Eastern bluebirds moved into one, so he crafted a bird bath and a feeder to keep his tiny neighbors happy. During bright sunsets, Link can be found sitting atop the mossy mound at the front of their house, dangling his feet off the side with a beer in his hand, quietly watching the finches, orioles, robins, and bluebirds eat and bathe, pull worms out from his garden, and chirp in the trees. He plans on making an owl home next.

After many tedious discussions about it, Zel finally caved to his pleading whines and they purchased a dozen cucco chicks from the local cucco farmer. After all, it was the perfect time of year to begin raising chicks and Link tended to them like a mother hen; sheltering them inside the house, feeding and keeping them warm, naming each one and cleaning their small pen that Zel helped build. She's had to nudge him a few times when he dozed off watching over them, and it's going to be a sad day for Link when they're finally big enough to roam outside because he likes falling asleep to their little chirps and scurrying sounds echoing about the house.

Link and some handymen built the adorable design Zel had sketched for a cucco coop, including a staggered ramp and six small cubbies for them to eventually lay eggs. One day she came home with extra paint from the Kochi Dye Shop and the next morning they spent hours painting the quaint coop. She was absolutely shocked when she noticed that he was left-handed as he brushed the paint clumsily onto the wood, and she was oddly angry at herself that she hadn't noticed it before. When she questioned why he throws and fights using his sword with his right hand, he tried to explain by saying, "maybe I'm amberdeeter."

"What?" She said, thoroughly concerned he was having a stroke.

"Ambrose Terity."

"Huh?"

"Anobo Dextrihouse."

"...Are you trying to say ambidextrous?"

"Yeah! That's it." And she laughed so hard he flicked paint on her face.

Zel's side of the coop looks better, but she disagrees.

They have fights often, but Link was growing used to the way she handled their arguments. He's been around her long enough to know how to smolder the flames. His actions are usually the reason for the argument, anyways. She'd yell at him for jumping off the roof without his paraglider, or being reckless and disregarding his own safety. They bicker constantly about the placement of certain photos on the walls or weapon racks, about who's turn it is to clean the hearth out (it's always his), and why he shouldn't slide down the staircase with a shield. Zel gets annoyed when she tries to describe how Purah was able to enhance the slate's runes or when she spends over forty minutes discussing the secret life of bees or horticulture relevancies until Link has to turn to her and admit: "I'm sorry, Zel, I got none of that."

Living with Zel, he never considered how life could be so quaint and simple, yet so full of activities, satisfying work, and contentment. Sharing everything with another person is so rewarding and fulfilling, and downright easy with her, even if it's annoying at times —but something's missing. Something that occasionally stops him from sleeping at night when she's trying to fall asleep alone in the other room and his thoughts are a million miles away.

If she felt like something was lacking in her life, missing, —like he felt—she barely showed it. She seems just as happy as he is, would meet every smile he sent her with the same energy, but every so often he would catch those heavy glances she gave him, notice how she'd bit her lower lip when he works around the house shirtless, and it was getting increasingly difficult to ignore the protruding thoughts of what, or better yet who, she was imagining when she touched herself in the bath because for fuck's sake, she's not even trying to hide her shame anymore.

He may be dumb about women but he's not entirely clueless. On many nights, Zel would return back from her bath with rosy cheeks and an ethereal glow on her skin —behaving extraordinarily kind even if they had just bickered about something pointless, and it would make him very suspicious. When he'd ask about why she took so long in the bath, she'd just smile and say she got distracted.

So if she wanted something... more from him, she would have told him by now because Zel is so sure about everything —and vocal about it, too. She knew with absolute certainty how she wanted to design their cupboard space for utensils and wall shelves for medicinals, until it became so cluttered by his ingredients and her phials that they had to start expanding both of them. Whenever he would ask her what she wanted to eat, it would take her no longer than five seconds to decide.

Perhaps he blew it at the Rucco Maag shrine when she snaked her fingers into his hair, but honestly, he wasn't ready for it. Hell, he's still not sure if he's ready for any kind of intimacy with another person at all. He doesn't want it to be true, but it is. The idea of it frightens him. He doesn't even know if he has the stamina or experience to pleasure another person, and the thought of a... of a relationship is utterly terrifying —but Gods, will he never forget how Zel's body melted when Link touched her and pulled her against his own as they danced at Rabia Plain. Like she'd faithfully follow if he just decided to lead.

So that's where Link finds himself now; torn between wanting to pursue Zel and maintaining the status quo. Between stifling the desire to have her closer in any way that he can, and afraid of ruining what's already so perfect. He tells himself that if Zel wants him like he wants her, then he'll wait until she confesses it first, or when he's bold enough to make a move —if he ever will be.

» . «

He's been a nervous wreck in the mornings since the night of the blood moon because every night since then, they've been sharing a bed. They hadn't even talked about their sleeping arrangement —it just sort of… unfolded.

The evening of the blood moon they had another argument. Link wanted to test out the meteor rod he got after defeating a Wizzrobe and ended up setting fire to the ruins around Camphor Pond. Zel yelled at him when she saw the flames, screaming that he could've killed a traveler passing through and he argued back with "but I didn't" and that just made things worse, so he had stormed off to go fight something.

Soon he came across a Stone Talus not far from town and had nearly been squashed several times until finally defeating it when the sky started to bleed. He didn't even know it could do that. He stood above the rubies and amber resins that the talus dissipated into, breathing heavily with several bruises starting to form by the fight, but staring up at the sky in awe, watching as the clouds rolled over the village faster than he ever imagined they could move. He was mystified, fixated, frozen on the spot, and was left wondering what this type of phenomena meant for all of Hyrule. Was the world ending? —Was anyone else seeing this? —Was I not suppose to kill that thing? All the thoughts ran through his head before he heard his name being yelled across the field.

Link almost gloated. He did not expect Zel to come running back to him so quickly after a fight. She would always, always, wait for him to come back to her, and she'd usually have some sort of reluctant task for him to do. But sometimes she would have ingredients in her hands and would bashfully ask him to cook her something —a truce he couldn't possibly refuse.

He was trying to come up with a smart-ass remark but with the sky turning crimson and Zel running and calling for him to follow her back home, he decided against it. He bent to collect his earnings but only for a matter of seconds before a purple malice cloud dispelled from the sky, straight down in front of him, re-making, reproducing, reincarnating the talus he had just battled. He stood there; jaw agape and staring up at a newly built stone monster. He was left unable to gather any momentum to flee, but he definitely knew he didn't have enough strength left in him to battle all over again.

Luckily, Zel reached him before the talus could. She grabbed him by the wrist and launched him into a sprint back to town. The talus ran after them for several yards until it threw a boulder, and Link had to hurl them both to the side just in time to dodge the attack. They scrambled to their feet once more, chasing each other back to town, back to safety, back to their home.

When they crossed the bridge to their house, Zel's feet fell beneath her and she came undone in front of him. She collapsed to her knees in the lawn —movements frantic and trembling from head to toe. She shivered violently with her head in the grass and fingers clawing at her scalp, drenched in a cold sweat, screaming and wailing so loud he thought people in Kakariko could hear her. She wasn't sobbing out of fear, but out of pain —not physically but mentally. Her panic attack that was teetering seizure wasn't because she was afraid, this was far deeper and it chilled him to the bone. He couldn't remember being more scared in his life.

He wasn't sure if it was the adrenaline or his spirit that knew what to do, but he acted fast. Link knelt beside her, moving and shifting until he could swoop an arm under the back side of her legs and another wrapped around her shoulders and carried her inside, away from watching the burning sky, up the stairs, and into the bed. She was crying and keening in his arms, delirious and disoriented, blinded, and the bed was the first place he could think of to keep her safe. When Zel didn't let go of the hold she clamped around his neck, he shifted on the bed with her —not even second guessing it.

With heels pressed against the mattress, he moved her between his legs, shifting her body perpendicular to his. Link placed an arm around her shoulders and hugged her ungodly close to his chest, cradling her like a child, with her forehead resting just beneath his chin. He thumbed her shoulder for comfort, pushed the hair back from her sweaty face and began exaggerating his slow breath, making her focus on the sound even though his heart was pounding. Then he felt Zel grab his tunic close to his collarbone, and she buried her face in his chest.

"Shh, I've got you now, Zel, you're alright," he said, trying to soothe her and it seemed to help. After awhile, her breathing leveled, although she continued to soak the front of his tunic in tears. Every so often he'd hear her try to find words but they came out as whispers and stutters.

"It was torment, Link."
"So much pain."
"I was burning."
"I couldn't let go Link, I couldn't let go."

He would swallow down his fear when he heard her speak, not understanding what any of it meant. He reacted the same way every time; combed his fingernails through her hair gently, wiped away fresh tears with his thumb, and showered her with comforting words.

"I won't let anything happen to you."
"You're safe now Zel."
"Focus on the present. You're here with me."
"I'll protect you. I promise."

He never considered that he would have this side to him; so gentle and tender, soft and protective, but he had been so worried for her. He didn't even know what was going on.

Zel explained it to him the morning after they woke. It had been a long and strenuous night —full of shivers and tears into his chest until he eventually felt her drift off to sleep. He never once lacked his grip around her, never once let go of her. It was only when she started to snore that he finally, finally, laid her longways across the bed, pulled the blanket over and passed out next to her. He awoke the next morning close to noon, alone in bed, and found her sitting at the dining table sipping on herb tea, staring down at her cup, and listening to the rain.

"It's a blood moon. They come quarterly every year and when they do, monsters come back to life." She said when he sat opposite her at the table. He noticed she was shivering.

"Yeah, but are you okay? You were —I've never seen you so…" With elbows on the table, he dragged both his hands up his face and through his hair, blowing out an exhale. "You scared me half to death."

"I know. I'm so sorry. I—" Her voice broke as she tried to swallow down the memory. Blinking quickly, she took another sip of her tea to compose herself, but Link wanted to tell her not to apologize, that she had nothing to apologize for, though she spoke when his words failed him. "The blood moons they…take a toll on me. They're connected to my night terrors." She looked down at her hands as she fiddled with her cup. "We've been…together for two months now, and I think it's quite obvious to you that I have trouble sleeping."

He wrapped both his hands around his torso and nodded, watching and listening, silently.

"You just…being there for me last night. That —that helped me more than you could possibly know."

Link took a large and shaky inhale. The emotions had started to rise from his throat and it almost strangled him. He didn't know what to say, or how to sequester the intense feelings he suddenly felt for her. The intensity made the small, easily tamable flame of his core evolve into something brighter, stronger, needier, and he had to fully accept that it wasn't just some silly little attraction to his partner and roommate anymore. He wanted to protect her, make her feel safe, hold her in his arms and kiss her forehead when she cried because he had finally seen her sturdy walls be torn down, finally saw that she needed someone, and Link wanted that someone to be him.

He had to look away from her, suddenly shy, the topic too challenging for his voice to create words. He wanted to tell her what he was thinking; that he'd be there for her anytime and all the time. Whenever she needed him.

So he signed instead. It helps to have someone with you.

Looking at her under his lashes, he found Zel smiling just as shyly, then she signed back. It does.

That very same night when Link was already in bed and about to snuff the candle on the night stand, he heard the wooden steps begin to creak and he was all too familiar with the sound of her footsteps around the house already. He stayed silent, propped on his elbows in bed until Zel was standing on the top of the stairs in her purple sleeping tunic with a hand on the balustrade and another clutching at her pillow, adorning one of the most shyest and vulnerable faces he has ever seen her make. He waited for her to speak first.

"Link, can I—" Her voice cracked and it took several seconds until she tried again. "Can I sleep with you? I—I promise it's not —there won't —I just need—" but she couldn't form any more words after that.

"Yes, you can um— do you want the inside or outside?" His heart was pounding so loud he couldn't even hear the question he just asked her.

"Inside, please. I mean, if you don't mind—"

"I don't mind." He wasn't even sure what he was responding to; her sleeping right next to him or which side of the bed she preferred. This should be easy for me, he thought. They've slept close before; bedrolls an arms length away at campfires they've made along the road —they even did it last night. But this was different. She was asking. This felt more personal. Closer.

He watched her as she timidly walked across the loft, and with each footstep she made, Link felt the air slowly leaving his body, making him feel absolutely bare and entirely exposed even though he was fully dressed in his pajamas. She crawled over the end of the mattress and made her way to lay beside him, then he snuffed out the candle and both of them repositioned on their backs, adjusting to the darkness of the room, staring up the same ceiling and lying under the same blanket, and that's when Link felt a small shift. A new change that couldn't be revoked between them. Couldn't be reversed or dismissed even if one of them tried because he could hear the quiet tremors she was attempting to hide in her exhales and it was only a matter of seconds until he realized he was doing the same.

"Is this alright—?"

"Is this okay—?"

They both said at the same time. The thick nervous cloud that lingered over the mattress seemed to dissolve when their hushed chuckles filled the silence. Zel sighed out the tension in her shoulders then said goodnight and turned to face the wall, and he followed suite by doing the same; pulling the blanket close to his face and turning over to face the other way.

—But there was one thing repeating over and over in his head before he fell asleep. It was him trying to finish her sentence from before, and the only thing he could think of was that she was going to say; "I just need you."

They share the bed together because it comforts her, helps her sleep at night knowing he's within reach, and he has to admit he feels the same. They've both been sleeping a lot better lately and Link no longer wakes up searching for the bedroll by the balustrade anymore. She still startles him sometimes —jolting awake in the dead of night to her springing up in bed, breathless and heaving. He would just place a hand on her shoulder and gently coax her back down onto the mattress with quiet whispers of "It was just a dream Zel," and "I'm right here, don't worry."

It's a comfort to both of them when they head to bed at night, but it's something else entirely in the morning. It's been multiple nights of sleeping in the same bed and he rises before her every time, trying to hide his shame. He knows he shouldn't feel so guilty, it's a natural occurrence after all, but it's a matter of why.

Link wakes on the fourth day in a row, lying on his back with a forearm over his eyes. He can already feel himself, swollen and straining against his well-worn pants. He hasn't had morning wood since he woke up to this world. Perhaps he had been too depressed, too lost and confused to even get it up. Now, of all times, it comes back to him.

He wants to groan, express his frustration somehow, but he's afraid Zel might wake to find him in this state, lying right next to her, erection astute and blatantly obvious. If she notices, he can't quite predict how she'd react; disgust and repulsion? Apprehension or fain ignorance? Would she kick him out of bed or…or like it? Either way, he wasn't ready to sacrifice what they have over something so embarrassing.

Go down, he yells in his head.

The first day he simply ignored it —got out of bed and tried to make breakfast with an erection that wouldn't cease. Quickly, he learned that he wouldn't be able to keep doing that because Zel would wake soon afterwards and he'd have to find some pathetic way to conceal himself from her view until it subsided. On the third day he was so frustrated by this new situation that he changed into his Hylian gear, repositioned himself so he wasn't very noticeable, grabbed his sword and shield and killed every bokoblin in the woods below their house that had reappeared after the blood moon. When she asked about it later he just murmured into his meal; "I just needed to…release some tension."

Today he decides he can't avoid it any longer. It's only going to make him more stressed if he continues to ignore it.

Almost snapping the blanket off him, Link gets out of bed in a huff —frustrated of where he decided to go for some privacy. Link tip-toes down the stairs, cracks open the front door, and steps outside into the warm morning air. He glances at Sasha and Jassa and the view makes him smile. Both their horses are grazing beside the other, next to his garden that has started to sprout a few pea plants, green beans, corn, and a couple herbs for his medicine that Zel has found seeds for; wild lettuce, linden, and lemon balm. Link continues with his little side quest by walking up the path along the house and turning the corner, passing underneath the lean-to and pausing briefly at the window above their bed. Zel is still sound asleep, curled beneath the blanket, but has rolled over to his side of the bed to capture the heat he probably left behind. He follows the path the rest of the way, enters their little outhouse, and locks the door.

He presses his back against the wood and lets his head bang against it. After a couple breaths, he starts to slide his body down to the ground until he's sitting on the cobblestone with his legs extended out in front of him. His movements are slow after that. A little nervous to follow through with what he plans to do, but he has to —it's driving him mad.

Unbuttoning his pants, Link pulls them down his hips, just enough to free himself from his underwear. He blows out a long, agitated exhale as he stares down at himself —not exceptionally proud at what he's looking at. He's still rock hard and throbbing, desperate for any kind of friction. His rough, calloused hands will have to do.

This is the first time he's attempting this since he woke up to this world and he can't help but feel sheepish and apprehensive, unsure on how he'll feel about it all, but with hesitant movements, he coils a hand around himself anyways and uses his thumb to capture the small bead of wetness escaping from his tip. He coats the head with it as best he can before he commits to stroking his own length, but when he starts an apathetic stroke up and down his shaft, his shoulders melt from his ears and he sighs, tilts his head back, and closes his eyes.

The sensation of his hands around his erection feels familiar to him and he can't quite consider if that's necessarily a good thing. Did he have a lover a hundred years ago, or did he have to succumb to his own hand every time he needed this? He brushes the lonely thought away as he tightens his grip and strokes faster.

He has to think of something pleasurable though or else he's going to be on the floor of that bathroom for awhile, but the only thing he can come up with is her. Sure, there's been a few other lovely women that have shown interest in him so far; Sagessa at the Dueling Peaks stable, Paya in Kakariko, even Lasli with the fireflies, but their touch is not what he craves, not what he desires.

Respectfully, he tries to keep Zel's face out of his thoughts for the guilty fear she might be reading his mind somehow, so Link replays the times he's peeked a glance of her cleavage or caught a glimpse down her shirt. The times she'd sway towards him in nothing but her purple sleeping tunic with her smooth, muscular legs that are nothing like porcelain, but everything strong and curvy and thick. He thinks about the dip of her waist and the fullness of her breasts, but then he can't stop himself from picturing the green in her eyes and the curve of her smile when she catches him looking at her. And he'd never be able to forget that morning when he woke to her smiling in her sleep with lofty sighs and parted lips, and as he watched her head tilt back to expose her bare neck, a jolt of electricity ran down his spine that had Link scurrying behind a tree to hide the first erection he received in over a century.

But as his mind wanders he starts to imagine new scenarios. What would her hands feel like? Her mouth or tongue? She had already kissed his cheek before and by the feeling of it, he knows her lips are soft, but branding, and if he thinks hard enough, he can still feel her so close to his face. Would her hands be just as searing? Would they leave a blazing sensation everywhere they roamed on his body?

Then all of a sudden she's there —in the room with him— on her knees and watching his movements, grinning mischievously. Link watches behind closed eyes as she replaces his hand with her own and begins to stroke him at a different pace; long and slow and never casting her gaze away from his. He imagines her hands are soft and practiced, unhurried, but demanding something from him. Just the thought of it has him groaning deep in his throat and he starts to roll his hips to the rhythm of his hand.

She's still watching him as she settles more comfortably onto the cold floor. Her eyelids are heavy and she's biting her lower lip like she wants to do something more and she does —he makes her. Her face leans lower and lower down his lap until her mouth is hovering at the top of him and he can almost feel her breath against his skin. He's quivering, the exertion and strain of his hand making him break into a hot and lewd sweat. Then her lips encase around him and he gasps. Her tongue teases and swirls just the tip, moving him around in her mouth, exploring and tasting him. The thought makes him slick and wet and between his own leakage and the clamminess of his palm, his hand starts to glide up and down his shaft much easier. His nose flares and his breath hitches as he starts to imagine Zel's mouth dropping down and coming back up again, spiraling her lips and using her hand to cover the rest of him. His hips twitch and a surging heat starts to build in his groin.

His breath is rough and heavy as he envisions her body curving in a kneeling position; back arched and ass up high so he can see it when she bobs her head up and down the length of him. She enjoys herself as her lips encase every inch of him, slurping and lapping, licking and sucking, making him drenched and filthy and completely at her mercy.

Using only her mouth now to slide up and down his length, she picks up the pace and her hands clutch at his thighs. He's bucking sporadically, losing control of his hips as he fucks his own hand —every fiber of his being wanting it to be Zel's mouth instead, and he pushes and grinds his way into the build up of his inevitable climax. Before it happens, he plays it out in his head by wondering what it would be like to release into her mouth, fill her with the taste of him —and then he's right behind his thoughts. His hips sputter out and he comes in waves, rivulets of release, and all he wants is to hold onto the image of her sinking her lips deep around him, letting him thrust into her mouth until he's boneless and gasping, sated and spent.

Link parts his lips and breathes through his mouth, panting by the sweet and pitiful release he had allowed himself. He doesn't want to open his eyes or trudge back to reality just yet, though he's slightly ashamed by what he just imagined Zel doing —but Gods does he feel so much better now. Then reality starts to mingle with his imagination; if he's thought of her this way then...does Zel think about him in the bath?

After cleaning himself off and any spots on the bathroom floor that laid victim to his sinful secret, he heads indoors to find Zel awake and straining two cups of herbal tea by the hearth, swirling in one spoonful of honey for him and two for her. He smiles at the thought that someone knows him well enough to prepare his tea exactly how he likes it, then sits at the table so she can serve it to him.

"Do you feel better?" She asks, turning around with both mugs in her hand.

"Yes." He sighs contently, then his eyes go wide. "Wait, what?" He does a double take at her, panicked and frozen.

"You seemed stressed when you got up this morning and then you just walked in here with a stupid grin on your face." She sits across the table from him and tests the heat of the tea, raises the cup up to her lips and blows —all without averting her eyes from his own. Kind of —no, exactly like how he just imagined her lips wrapping around his—

"So….are you feeling better?" She repeats.

He sucks in a breath, trying to stop the heat rising to his ears. "Yes, I just…thought of a joke, that's all."

"Really? Let's hear it then." She does not look convinced.

"Why? Y-you don't think I'm funny."

"That is not true." She says, almost insulted. "I laugh at you all the time. Like when you stole the head of a stalkoblin and kicked it off the side of a cliff. Or when you carried one of Cado's cuccos around all day just to use it as a weapon against a chuchu."

"He was so mad." Link says and blows on his own tea.

"Yeah, he was," She smiles, nodding at the memory, but continues, "and may I remind you, you made me laugh for a solid minute when we first met…ready to fight monsters with a soup ladle. My gallant knight in shining kitchen utensils." She chuckles softly into her mug.

He groans and rolls his eyes, then takes a long slurping sip of his tea, thoroughly prepared to ignore her completely if she keeps pestering him about it. Thankfully, she drops the subject altogether by being more interested in smearing some honey onto a slice of bread.

"Hey Zel," he says through the sated silence. He feels her watching him as he thumbs the rim of his mug, "now that we...share the loft, do you have any ideas on what to do with the empty spare room?"

She ponders his question for a brief second then answers; "At the moment, no. I'd suggest we turn it into a guest bedroom if you or I knew anyone that would come to visit." She takes a sip of her tea then asks, "do you have any ideas?"

"I do," he nods, "do you...do you trust me if I keep it a surprise though?"

"Not particularly," she smirks at him, "but...alright."

---

Living with Link is an absolute pleasure.

Zelda basks in the luxury of having a home all to herself, where she can design it how she wants, organize it how she pleases, and has zero restrictions on what she can or can't do, even if he lectures her about leaving dirty dishes and piles of laundry around. She tries to make up for it in small ways; by making him tea in the morning, keeping the plants watered and healthy, cleaning up all his loose hair around the house since he sheds so much, and by taking care of all the spiders because he just can't.

One time a huge spider crawled into the bathtub while he was bathing and that was not a wonderful day. She barged into the bathroom after hearing him shouting for her, and Link had just managed to pull a towel over his privates as she came in. For the quickest second, she thought he was going to pounce on her, rough and heavy, wet and filthy, but he just pointed a shaky hand into the tub and her whole body deadpanned.

"Should I take a bath with you next time?" She asked as she cupped the spider into her hands.

He shivered, distracted, and eyes watching her fingers incase it escaped and flew at him somehow, "sure, if—if you want."

His thoughtless response made her pause in the doorway and it was only when they stared at each other for a long time did he realize what he just said. Link became a bumbling naked man after that —so nervous and jittery that she was growing very concerned he might accidentally drop the thin towel in front of his groin. He was shy around her for the rest of the day, but at least Zelda got to glimpse the small dimples on the sides of his butt cheeks again.

If she's not tinkering with Purah at the lab, shopping around town, or working at the Kochi Dye Shop, she'd be at home either extremely focused on the newest project she was designing or curled up on their loveseat with a blanket and a new book in her hands. She goes through Purah's bookshelves regularly and every time she'd ask if she could borrow one, Purah would just wave a hand and say, "keep it Zelly." Between all the books Zelda gained from the lab and the few she finds during her thrifts in town, they now have a hefty collection of hardcovers towering on the floor of their home.

Purah and Link's relationship grew pretty much over night. He treats her like the little sister he can't remember; scolding her about how messy she is or fiercely watching her when she balances on a wobbly stack of books to reach at high places. Purah likes to trick him constantly —something she didn't get to do with him before the Calamity because he was 'so serious all the time.' She would either talk him into doing tedious tasks around the lab or talk his foot into his mouth sometimes, but he's getting better at challenging her clever wordplay, and it's only a matter of time before he tricks her.

When there's a rainy evening in Hateno, Link and Zelda spend it with Symin and Purah playing cards, and that's where a lot of bickering happens between him and Purah. The four of them would typically play juckerspiel (by Link's request), and Purah would always accuse him of cheating if she and Symin lost. On more than one occasion, Zelda would have to raise her voice over theirs and admit; "it was me. I counted the cards."

Link would develop terrible migraines very frequently. Sometimes they would be so painful that she'd come home to find him still lying in bed on a beautiful sunny day, almost crying by the pain, and she could do nothing but try to soothe him through it. Each one would result in a minuscule memory, but the small blips he could remember wouldn't be worth the pain. If it wasn't for her and Purah repairing Link's damaged patient files, Zelda would have never found an ancient recipe designed to handle the effects of severe memory loss and it's recovery.

It was revealed within the repaired documents that memory loss was a part of the healing process in the Shrine of Resurrection; a technological mishap to erase the traumatic experiences felt during a patient's life until they are mentally strong enough to recover those memories. However, memories are tricky. Complicated. Sheikah technology is exceptional, but it cannot distinguish between a person's good memories or bad ones, so the longer a patient remains within the shrine, the more memories are erased.

This, unfortunately, was an unknowing sacrifice no one predicted Link had to take for all of Hyrule.

Nevertheless, his patient files had suggested a recipe consisting of white willow bark and several herbal medicinals to handle the pain of when a whole life's worth of memories started to return back to him. Through experimentation, research, and many long nights spent at the lab, Zelda crafted a small capsule for Link to swallow once a day, every morning. He was hesitant at first; the pill being large, chunky, and leaving a gross taste in his mouth, but the migraines quickly wore off when he would receive small bits of his memories back.

He's so far been able to recover a few flashes from his childhood. He can remember what his mother looked like, but not his father, though he's had several memories return of them training together with wooden swords. One day he rushed into the house to tell her about the memory he received of his sister; how she had hair like a strawberry, freckles speckled across her face, and eyes just like his own —though her nose was cuter. He can vividly remember the times when he lit holy candles as the snow fell outside his childhood home on the winter solstice, when he learned to swim in the waters of Zora's Domain, and signing goodnight to his mother as she tucked him into bed.

Link had been able to find a couple white willow trees during his small excursions outside Hateno. Sometimes Link will venture alone while Zelda stays at the lab, though she would never let him leave without the Sheikah slate. He'd access a shrine that he was able to reach on foot, but he wouldn't enter it without her. Instead, he'd fast-travel back to the lab, take Zelda by the hand, and say to Purah; "it's my turn with her."

They've gotten as far as the Muwo Jeem shrine, and the modest test of strength was a major test of their partnership. Zelda watched at a safe distance (per Link's order), and whenever the guardian would change it's move, Link would shout in a panic; "fuck —fuck, what the fuck do I do now?!" before sprinting out of the way of a charge attack or an incoming laser. She'd cup her hands around her mouth and yell at him to send a flurry strike at the right moment, or use his paraglider against the updraft. When he finally defeated it, they ran to each other with large smiles on their faces with Link out of breath and leaning most of his weight into her as they hugged, while Zelda unabashedly nuzzled her nose into his sweaty neck.

If Link was ever going to at least admit his feelings for her, he would do it in the comfort and safety of their own home. She refuses to bring up the topic of traveling to the Divine Beasts, unless he brings it up first, for two reasons. One; because she's so happy living domestically for the first time in her life, and two; she's waiting for Link to make a move on her. He's already completed multiple shrines, accessed the Hateno tower, helped numerous villagers, prayed to the Goddess statue, and their cucco chicks have grown big enough to live in the coop they've made, and still neither one of them have talked about leaving home.

Shortly after they began sharing a bed together, Link will hide away in the outhouse for a suspicious amount of time, and she's fairly certain she's knows what he's doing in there, or better yet who he's thinking about. When he...finishes, Link will quickly make breakfast then lock himself in the spare room and Zelda is even more suspicious of that because she has no idea what he's doing in there. He's constantly asking her to promise she won't peek when he steps out of the house to grab more supplies or bring in Karson to assist him with something. One day he even blindfolded Zelda with his own climbing bandana so she wouldn't see what large object he was hauling into the spare room.

It's been two weeks since then —two weeks since the blood moon, and the sliver of the new moon has made its appearance in the sky. Recently, Zelda has noticed the villagers are growing extremely giddy, preparing for a local celebration that she's vaguely familiar with. In Hyrule, there are eight significant days within it's wheel of the year that are traditionally celebrated, and the cross-quarter day between the spring equinox and summer solstice has arrived.

"Zel—Zel, wake up." Link nudges her shoulder after having attempted to wake her for several seconds. Zelda squints her eyes at the warm morning sun peering through their curtained windows, and sees him mere inches from her face; still in his pajamas and smiling warmly, kneeling next to the bed and shoving her playfully. "It's ready; the spare room. Come downstairs."

He doesn't wait for her —perhaps too hyped with excitement in order to do so. By the time she's able to stretch and sit upright in bed, Link is already down the stairs and out of sight. She takes a couple minutes to rub her eyes and roll her neck before trotting down from the loft to meet him, and before it's in her view she can smell the pleasant aromas of their typical morning feast. Link likes to uplift the importance of breakfast with a generous display full of dishes; slices of honeyed apples, seasonal fruits (apricots and boysenberries at the moment), plates of smoked sausage and fish, Link's homemade jam, dill pickles, freshly baked bread and herb butter, hardboiled eggs, and cherry tomatoes. Whatever isn't eaten goes back in the icebox for the next day...or when he's hungry again within the hour for second-breakfast.

Smiling fondly at the display and simply marveling in the fact that yes, this is indeed her life, Zelda's about to insist she go out and pick some fresh lilacs for the table and make their morning tea, but she's realized he's already done that, too.

Chewing on a piece of smoked fish and holding his usual mug in his hand, Link smiles when he looks at her, then swallows.

"Ready?" He asks and she nods. Link sets his mug down on the table then strides over to the closed door of their spare room, and she follows him eagerly.

"Am I going to like this?" She's a little nervous to see what he's done to the only closed-off room in their home.

"If you don't then I can honestly say I don't know you at all." He sends her a cheeky grin before opening the door, then waves her inside.

Without even registering that it's happening, Zelda gasps and places a hand over her heart when she walks into the room. He's turned the space into a small study; just like the one she used to have in the castle but better —because Link made this one. The shortest wall of the room has been converted into shelving and he's already transferred her once cluttered collection of books there, and the space is big enough to hold more. The extra support beams on the ceiling that were built when they first expanded the space now have hooks and wooden additions where she can hang-dry bundles of herbs onto. There are open-shelved cabinets of various sizes that he's positioned along one long wall of the room and he's placed all her extra phials and tinctures on it (which she'll eventually reorganize to suit her needs better, but still). He's divided one cabinet to hold only miscellaneous supplies; muslin bags, clippers and scissors, wooden cutting boards, mason jars, a large roll of jute twine, and a brand new mortar and pestle —so she doesn't have to keep borrowing his from the kitchen.

There's a small desk with a few extra shelves on the wall above it, but the final thing that weakens her completely is the antique sewing machine he's placed next to it. She hasn't seen a sewing machine since she crafted the Champion's garments, yet this one is even more beautiful than the ones she's used before because it's upcycled and purchased secondhand with a mysterious history she'll never get to know, and that just makes it all the more charming and admired. It has painted gold lace on the black bedplate and arm, with clear signs of wear on the balance wheel, and there's floral wood etchings carved into the small compartments on either side of the table. There's a gorgeous black metal treadle that controls the speed of the whole machine with the rhythm of a foot and Zelda can only imagine the soft creaking sound it'll make when she eventually uses it.

Registering the unabashed twinkle in Zelda's eyes and the focus of her stare at the sewing machine, Link's smile grows as he begins to explain the story of how he obtained it, "Karson told me his mother was cleaning out their house for spring, and this was one of the things she wanted to get rid of."

"Is this what you two hauled in a couple days ago? When I was blindfolded?" She asks and he nods.

"Karson got a stubbed toe because of it, so be sure to thank him when you see him next."

Zelda laughs, "I will."

She ventures over and inspects all it's small compartments, finding it full of sewing supplies; needles and thread, thimbles, buttons, and few extra pieces of fabric. Link stays quiet for awhile, until he can't take the silence anymore. "So...how do you feel about it all?"

"How do I feel?" she turns to look at him and sighs his name fervently, "Link..." She couldn't stop her feet from moving even if she tried.

Whether Link was ready for it or not, Zelda jumps into his arms. Her feet leave the floor entirely as she wraps her legs around his waist, and she pulls him in for a wholehearted hug. He stumbles back a couple steps but he catches her, and quickly regains his footing, adjusts to hold all her weight in his arms, and when he finally registers what's happening, he just squeezes her tighter. "I take it you love it?" He chuckles.

"Mhm," she nods into his neck for emphasis.

When it's clear to Link that she's not going to let go willingly, he walks over to the desk and bends so she can take the hint he wants her to sit atop it. They release their hold on one another as she sits onto the wooden surface, but Link doesn't step away from her. Doesn't move from where he stands between her bare legs. He stays there as her feet dangle around him and when their eyes lock onto the others, that's when the air leaves both their lungs and everything suddenly feels brand new but oddly familiar, exciting but couldn't be simpler, and Zelda thinks there's no way they can avoid what's so obvious any longer, but one of them has to speak first, has to move first, and it's not going to be her.

Link's hands have fallen to rest atop her knees, a soft, comforting weight, but she doesn't allow herself to touch him back. Her heart's pounding. Her mind screaming to grab his shirt and pull him in at the same time it's telling her not to. Be patient, she listens to the only logical, but rapidly depleting voice in her head. Wait for his move.

But it never comes.

A soft knock is heard on their front door and both of them blink out of their hypnosis.

"I'll get it," she says begrudgingly, and when Link doesn't move, just nods brokenly with a very upset face —possibly because he just let a perfect moment slip through his fingers— she scoots back on the desk, pulls her legs up onto it, and with hesitant, clumsy movements, she untangles herself from him and scurries out of the room.

Zelda takes a long inhale to compose herself before she unlatches the deadbolt Link insisted they install on their front door. She's still in her pajamas, but it's still morning, and this is her home and she can wear what she wants to open the door. It's probably just Symin anyways.

It's not.

It's a man she's seen around the village but never spoken to. He wears a long white robe and a green vest and he's holding onto a large covered basket.

"Morning miss!" He bows his head to her and she smiles back. "My name's Reede, I'm the Mayor of the village. My apologies if I'm interrupting your breakfast, but today is a special day in Hateno so I thought I'd personally introduce myself to the town's newest resident and explain the annual customs we celebrate during the—"

"Spring Fire Festival," she finishes.

He's caught off guard for a second then smiles wide, "Yes! I'm surprised you've heard of it. I don't know of any other villages still celebrating the eight significant calendar days."

"I must confess, Mayor Reede, that I have only read of them in books," She smiles warmly to him, introduces herself, then opens the door the rest of the way, "won't you please come in?" She waves her hand gracefully.

The Mayor is perhaps a little dazzled by Zelda's charm, but enters into their home anyways.

It's mostly true; Zelda has really never celebrated the holidays in the traditional sense. She has always been bombarded with her Princess duties during those days. She would have to recite elaborate speeches and blessings down upon Castle Town from the safe distance of the balconies in the castle; reserved and far away from the actual feast, decor, and celebration. She'd always have to spend them in extreme formal wear that weighed too heavy on her back and too tight around her midriff, speaking to lords and ladies who deemed themselves bored by the festivals of old, but still celebrating them anyways for the sake of tradition and imperial customs, while she always stared fondly down at Castle Town, listening to the loud music, laughter, and fun everyone else was having. She never once was able to sneak out of the castle due to all the heightened security on those days, either.

"Please, have a seat and help yourself to any food on the table. Would you care for a cup of Hyrule tea?" She asks and the Mayor humbly nods.

He begins small talk once he's tried one of Link's homemade pickles and she's strained the tea and poured it into a mug.

"My wife and I had been wondering who moved into this abandoned farm house. What you've done with the place is just...amazing," He looks at all their shelves of plants and Link's weapon racks, but he's particularly interested in the wood fired oven built into the hearth. "And these are fantastic!" He raises the half-eaten pickle in his hand, "Did you make these?"

She chuckles and sits across the table from him before she answers. "No, my partner did."

That's when Link finally exits the study, scratching the nape of his neck with one hand. His mind is completely distracted until he notices the visitor at the table.

"Oh, Link! I should have known you lived here!"

Link greets their neighbor kindly and sits down next to Zelda at the table. Reede explains to her how Link approached him in the fields one day, offering to help, and how Link has been such a great help around the village in general. The three of them chit-chat leisurely with bright smiles and polite chuckles, and Link doesn't seem out of sorts from earlier, so she takes that as a good sign. Admitting your feelings is hard enough, let alone submitting to them, and that will only come with time. She just needs to let him lead when he's ready.

"—That's why I stopped by today, actually. To explain this evening's maypole traditions."

"Maypole?" Link asks, but it's Zelda who explains.

"It's a tall ceremonial pole decorated with flowers and garlands. Symbolically, the pole represents masculine energy and fertility, while ribbons that are woven onto it by a dance represent the feminine. This ceremony is dedicated to the sacred union of the Goddess and the Greenman."

"The Greenman? The Goddess has a..." Link swallows, "a husband?"

"In the archetypal sense, yes. Legends say he lives amongst the forests as a mortal man and it is him that Hylia loves and chooses as a partner for conception on this night, but really it is the continuation of the season —another turn of the yearly wheel. He provides the life while the Goddess grows it, creating abundance throughout summer and harvest, until the Greenman dies and is reborn on the winter solstice, and so the wheel of the year repeats."

"Strange," he takes a sip of his lukewarm tea left out from earlier.

"Yes, quite." She smiles, "Though, I do appreciate the story because it provides a beautiful display of companionship. Both the Goddess and the Greenman are spoken of as equals."

"I wouldn't say dying is very equal," Link mutters.

"True, but waiting for him to return is just as painful."

He looks at her then, questioning deeply. His ice blue eyes are curious and observant, but his cheeks begin to flush when she looks back at him in the same way.

The Mayor breaks their stare with the shuffling sounds of his basket.

"You are very well-read young lady," Reede says brightly while he pulls the large basket onto his lap since there's no room for it on the table. "Anyways, I've come to provide the typical garments worn for the ceremonial dance. Having just moved in, my wife was unsure if you'd be aware of the Hateno traditions, or own clothes in the proper colors."

The Mayor explains that the dances are divided into three groups: children, single individuals, and married couples. Children can wear bright vivid colors of their choosing, married couples usually wear green or brown but are always matching their spouse, and for the bachelors and bachelorettes —they wear white. When Link asks why that is, Zelda tries to explain that white represents purity, but Reede also adds;

"Many unmarried couples are hand-fasted on this night. That's how my wife and I did it." He smiles, then turns to Link, "will you be hand-fasting your partner tonight?"

And just like that, Link begins choking on the cherry tomato he had been munching on and his hacking fit becomes so severe, Zelda almost starts hitting his back in a panic. Link never answers the question and Zelda doesn't even know where to begin. The Mayor lets out a loud booming laugh, satisfied he was able to fluster them, and quickly busies himself with his basket once Link takes a long drink of his tea. He pulls out a white buttoned shirt for Link that looks about his size, instructing that he can wear whatever colored trousers along with it, and hands it over the table to him. Link takes it reluctantly.

"Traditionally, the Hateno women tailor their own dresses," Reede begins to explain as he pulls out another white garment, "so you can wear whatever white clothing you own, but Clavia—my wife—sent me along with a couple extra dresses incase the women of the house needed them. I guess that's you." He smiles at Zelda.

"That's very kind of you, thank you," she says as she looks at the three dresses he's provided, then chooses one. They're all a couple sizes too big, but with her brand new sewing machine, she could transform at least one garment into something suitable to wear by the evening.

Soon after that, the Mayor excuses himself from the table, thanking them both for their hospitality, the delicious food, and welcoming them again to the neighborhood. Reede exits with his basket in hand and closes the door on his way out as Link and Zelda are left at the table. She's inspecting the seams of her new white dress, considering how to trim and design the garment, and growing excited for the festivities tonight, when she hears Link begin to speak.

"Why do you have to do that?"

She looks up at him and raises an eyebrow. "Do what?"

"Make everything so simple when it's so complicated," he sighs, then looks at the plates on the table. "Did you tell him we were partners?"

"Yes? That's what we've been calling each other since day one."

"Yeah b—but the way you're using it can be...misconstrued."

"How so?"

Link drags a hand down his face, then shakes his head like he's trying to shake off this whole conversation, "Forget it."

"No, tell me, Link. What am I misconstruing?" She puts the garment down.

"That we—" he swallows, "That we're in a relationship."

Oh.

Oh.

He's nowhere near close to where she thought he was, or maybe he's not heading where she wants him to go at all. Maybe he's grown so comfortable with just being friends that he doesn't want to change anything between them.

"Well I—"

"You don't get it," Link steps up from the table to stand over her, "you don't know what it's like to not remember anything." He's breathing heavily and his voice is jarring. "I don't know the first thing about— We haven't even freed a Beast yet and I—" He claws a hand through his hair to reset himself then says, "Everything comes so easy for you, but it doesn't for me. I...I'm a fucking mess."

"Are you serious right now? I would trade places with you in a heartbeat! You don't know what it's like to—" her breath catches, remembering herself. Zelda looks down at the table and takes a long breath, then looks back at him with a glare. "You're the one that's making everything more complicated than it has to be."

"What?! What does that— I don't even—" Link starts groaning low in his throat, frustrated with the topic of discussion and for not being able to conjure proper sentences, but above all; not being brave enough to take a leap of faith. Yet, the most frustrating thing of all is that Zelda does get it. She understands why he can't just accept his feelings because she's been there before.

Now she knows what it feels like to watch someone be so afraid of something so simple that it almost makes her feel like the universe is mocking her somehow.

When his groaning has stopped, Link turns and starts walking up the stairs to the loft, stomping the whole way, and his childish behavior just makes her huff, so she turns back to the food on the table. She takes an obnoxiously loud bite of a slice of apple, munching hard so that he can hear it. She'll eventually cool down, but right now, she just wants to feel upset and angry.

"I'm not wearing that to the festival," Link says from the loft.

"Fine."

"Fine."

---

He blew it. Again.

He should have been fine with it. He should have left it alone. Should have smiled and hummed as they washed the dishes together, like he typically does. Zel seems to love it when he hums. She even does a loud, graceful laugh when he makes up random lyrics to a tune, and sings it to her;

"Oh, c'mon hygiene, make these dishes so clean, at this moment, soap is everything."

He doesn't know if anyone else will ever laugh at his stupid jokes the way she does.

All the signs are there. She cares for his health and well being, worked meticulously for weeks on a medicine designed just for him. When he sits at the table, she'll gift him with an affectionate touch and a soft squeeze on his shoulder any time she passes by. She watches him with a piercing focus whenever they're battling monsters together even though she really ought to be paying attention to the enemy attacking her. She's gotten several injuries because of it.

But more than anything else, she looked so hurt when he said it. Her face was quick, but he caught it. Link can read that face like his favorite book (if he had one) because that face is the one he sees when he shuts his eyes at night and the first one to smile at him in the morning. So when he admitted he wasn't comfortable with the idea of a relationship, her sturdy walls that she keeps so high around her emotions crumbled for the smallest second before she was able to repair it.

If he did leave it alone, perhaps they would be referring to each other as partners in a whole new way. Maybe he would have been brave enough to hold her hand while they finished breakfast, kissed her cheek when they cleared the table, or maybe as they washed the dishes she'd allow him to stand behind her, wrap his arms around her torso, brush her hair aside, and let his lips touch her skin.

Gods, he wants to kiss her neck so badly. He wonders what ethereal sound she'll bless him with if he ever does.

Instead, he was an idiot and stomped up the stairs, waited for her to busy herself within the study, and as quietly as he could, changed into his Hylian gear and left the house for the day. He wasn't sure where he was going or what he was doing, but he had to create some space between them even though he wasn't mad at her at all. He was mad at himself.

He needed to understand why he did that so he spent the day hunting, foraging, and battling a couple stray bokoblins in the woods to take his mind off everything. After he was a little sweaty and his clothes a bit dirty and spent maybe too long distracting himself, Link wandered back into the village and climbed the roof of the Ton Pu Inn to watch the final preparations for the festivities starting in an hour.

Below him, there are garlands of spring flowers decorating handrails and doorframes, wooden bar tables placed around barrels of ale brought out from the cellars. What he assumed was the maypole was already standing tall in a large opened area with bright, beautiful ribbons tied at the top and dangling all the way down to the ground. Men and women wore excited grins and clean clothing, laughing and flirting, bouncing and skipping, holding either plates of delicious food to bring to the buffet table or passing out flower crowns for everyone to wear.

Link's chest flushed when he imagined what Azella would look like wearing a crown.

Why did he have to be so afraid? He's battled so many hardships in his life he can't even remember them all, yet this was different than any battle he's probably ever had to face. What if he can't provide her the pleasure she so rightly deserves? What if they do try a relationship and he fucks it up so severely that she leaves him. One of his biggest concerns is that they haven't even conquered a Divine Beast yet. What if she leaves and he has to face this world all alone? Every day since they've met, they have spent almost every second together, so the thought of losing her is teetering unbearable.

And even with all the clues indicating that she feels the same way about him, he still doesn't have the courage to take a leap of faith for the simple fear of falling. He hates himself for it.

Eventually, Link picks up the last of his dignity and returns home. When he walks into the house, he already has the apology prepared and with a small amount of luck and some strength from Farore, he might even be able to confess his feelings for her, but all that goes out the window the second he walks up the stairs to meet her in the loft.

Zel is leaning in front of the small vanity she thrifted that came with a little stool and a lightly chipped mirror, though Link uses it more often to fix his hair than she does. Her blonde, messy hair is brushed and styled for the first time ever, with a braid that goes across her head like a tiara, but it's what she's wearing that has Link's stomach tied in knots. As he was spending the day taking his frustrations out on monsters, Zel took hers out by crafting the prettiest dress Link has ever seen.

It's short and simple, all white and everything breathtaking. She's managed to take in the dress around her waist to hug her figure, though she kept the garment loose around her hips so it sways with her as she moves. The sleeves are short and the trim is low enough to expose her collarbones, but modest enough to hide her cleavage, except when she bends, like she's doing right now.

When she notices him, she moves away from the vanity and stands in the middle of the loft, then smiles at him weakly.

"Hey."

"Hi," Link croaks. What was he going to say again? His mind is blank because all he can think of is—

"That dress." He says absentmindedly.

"Oh...yes I—" she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, "I've never been allowed to wear a short dress before, so I jumped at the opportunity." She chuckles nervously, then clears her throat. "Thank you for the sewing machine. I wouldn't have been able to tailor it if it wasn't for you. So...thanks."

"Yup," he gulps. He's never seen her in a dress before.

After a long, somewhat awkward, moment of silence, Zel takes an inhale then speaks again. "Link, can you...can you do me a favor?" She continues when he doesn't respond, "Can you clasp the last button in the back for me? I had to add a few extra to bring in the waist and it's awkward for me to reach." Zel turns so her back is halfway to him, "would you mind, terribly?" She looks over her shoulder, and Link can only describe the expression she's adorning as demure.

She doesn't wait for his words. Just turns the rest of the way and stands patiently. He's used to having to do a favor for her after a fight, but oh Goddess this is so much more.

Link can't recall the second his feet began to float over to her, or when exactly his hands rose to assist in the clasping, because his eyes are fixated on the crevice of her neck and his mind is elsewhere. He's thinking about a world where he's braver and what would happen if he was. He would move her short hair away to expose more skin on her neck, and kiss her softly until she began to melt back against him like he's imagined so many times before, but this time there's a short white dress involved and they're both ravenous, so she spins around in his arms and pulls him just as much as he pushes her against the wall, and he would kiss her hard as the picture frames rattle and she'd moan into his mouth how badly she wants him. She'd undo his trousers in a frantic, desperate yearning, then jump to wrap her legs around him like she did this morning, and he'd hike up her dress and slip inside her before either of them could bare another moment of having to go without the other's touch and feel ever again.

Gods, he makes it sound so easy.

» . «

He wore the white shirt and he's happy that he did. Until he got mustard and beer on it.

Zel was waiting by the bridge as he quickly changed from his Hylian gear into the white shirt, and when she saw what Link was wearing, her face lit up brighter than the ribbons around the maypole. As they ventured into town, she had asked what made him decide to wear it and he very bashfully answered with; "I wanted to match you," and that just made her smile grow brighter.

Then he remembered that every person who is unmarried in Hateno was wearing white. Both her and Link became human targets.

Link was the first to be picked off as three women whom he didn't catch their names, pulled him by an ale barrel and offered him a drink, which he kindly and naively accepted. He had been drowning in the girls soft giggles, and halfway through his second drink of the night, before he noticed Zel and Karson across the way, standing around a tall bar table. Together. Alone.

He could kick himself to telling Karson they were only friends.

Karson was a nice guy; honest, genuine, hard-working. Link even considers them buddies —mates, but when Zel smiled sweetly as he said something 'funny' or 'charming,' Link strode over to cockblock him immediately, and to Link's happy surprise, Zel seemed thankful for it.

The maypole dance was performed before the serving of the feast, and the children began the dance first. The adults ooed and awed as each child held onto a ribbon when they skipped and danced around the maypole, and Link found himself holding onto his third pint of ale, awing and ooing right along with everyone else. Before he knew it, it was time for any unmarried individuals to approach the maypole, and with the argument they had this morning wiped from his mind completely, and his veins filling with liquid courage, he grabbed Zel by the hand and tugged until they were both holding onto their own ribbons and smiling wide as the music started again.

The men and women were more coordinated in their dance than the children, and Link quickly picked up on how the girls skipped and twirled one direction as the men went the other. Most guys walked timidly and eyeing the women, though some, like Karson, danced joyously to the rhythm of the live band, so Link followed his moves instead. Every time Zel passed him around the maypole she was laughing extravagantly, high on her own carefree happiness, and sometimes when she twirled her short dress revealed more than what he ever dreamed he'd be able to see of her.

Link went through his fourth and fifth pint of ale during the feast, and that's when he knew he was getting sloppy, but he didn't care. Zel certainly didn't. It looked like she loved that he was having so much fun, drinking heavily, and eating like a glutton. When he asked her how many pints of ale she had, worried that he might be drinking a little too much, Zel just smiled, shook her head, and told him it didn't matter. "Enjoy yourself," she said. So he did.

On his sixth pint of ale, Link and Zel were still holding down a bar table, watching the festivities, when a woman with a basket full of flower crowns walked past and gave one to her. Link, jokingly, asked for one too, and was at a loss for words when the woman giggled, placed one atop his head, and told him he's the prettiest man at the festival. Zel said she agreed and that's when he spilled beer on his shirt.

The mustard stain came when he went back to the buffet table for seconds. He had been filling a plate full of bratwurst, hot buns, and a generous mound of locally ground mustard when a young woman dressed in white bumped into him on accident. Thankfully, none of the greasy food got on his shirt, though the woman continued to apologize profusely. He ended up standing by the table as the beautiful curvy woman batted her long eyelashes at him, twirling her curly black hair around her finger and chatting to him about Hylia knows what, until Zel appeared at his side. Without thinking, he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulled her close, and introduced her as his partner. The whole situation had been a win, though the nameless woman got mad at him for 'wasting her time' and flicked mustard on his shirt before she stormed away. It didn't matter if he finished off the night with specks of dark yellow stains on his chest because he called Zel his partner in the very same way that flustered him earlier, and to his absolute astonishment, it was so much easier than he ever could have imagined.

Bits of his memory began to escape him as he drank down his seventh and started on his eighth pint. Him and Zel got separated somehow with the mention of Purah and Symin being there, and that's when Link found himself under the comforting darkness of night and the enchantment of the spring bonfires, standing around a circle of musicians and chatting away. He didn't know any of their names, couldn't remember even if he tried, but he remembers taking a shot of Goron fire whiskey with them and loved the burn as it went rough and hot down his throat. Then one of them said they played the lute, and for the second time that night, Link used the term 'partner' differently. "My partner plays the lute," he said. "She's around here somewhere."

He can remember that his ninth pint went down the fastest because him and the lute player challenged each other to a chugging contest while the other musicians chanted "chug! chug! chug!" over and over again. Link won, and after awhile he spotted Zel and Purah sitting on a bench, smiling and chatting. He doesn't remember the walk over to them, but he does remember kneeling in front of Purah and poking a finger in her ribs, taunting; "who's winning all the drinking contests now Rah-rah!" He may have been given several strange looks from the other festival goers by poking fun at a little girl on the ability to drink more, but Purah's response was totally worth it. "I swear to Hylia, Linky, you are the funnest thing in Hyrule now, when you used to be the drabbest. Right, Zelly?"

"I wouldn't say drabbest, but more...reticent."

"How would you know?" He laughed as he squeezed his way to sit in-between the two women, and wrapped an arm around Zel's shoulders.

She merely shrugged and placed a hand on this thigh, then answered, "just a hunch," and, for some reason, that made him laugh harder.

His final pint was never finished because he put it down somewhere and never found it again. Zel never left his side after they stood up from the bench, possibly because he was stumbling at that point and couldn't walk straight anymore. He can recall the stars were shining brightly, the blue lanterns he lit in town were forever burning, and the extra torches placed along the streets of his new hometown with the garlands and bouquets of flowers made Hateno the prettiest place in all of Hyrule. They slowly walked through the town center, spotting several couples starting to veer off for the night, even Manny and Prima were speaking in hushed tones and soft, flirtatious touches. When Manny saw Link pass, he gave him a wink, and Link tried to wink back, but he just blinked really hard, making Zel laugh uncontrollably.

"Are you the one responsible for setting those two up?" She asked him when they crossed over the small cobblestone bridge in town.

"Maybe," he said, long and drawn out, then hiccuped.

"Who knew Link the chosen Hero was also a matchmaker."

He was going to offer that he could set her up with someone, him, but he tripped over some trash left out by another drunken party goer. When he failed to pick himself up off the ground, Zel pulled him to his feet, wrapped an arm around his back, and never let go.

"Come on," she told him, "let's head home."

As they passed the East Wind General Store, Zel discretely pointed to two individuals hidden amongst the shadows, and when his eyes eventually focused he realized he was looking at Karson and the beautiful black-haired woman who flicked mustard on his shirt. Their clothes were disheveled, Karson's trousers were undone, and the woman had a leg wrapped around his waist. It was unclear to Link just how much they were doing, but he couldn't stop himself from laughing. When the couple turned their heads with a gasp, startled that they were found out, Link yelled at them to get a room.

"You get a room!" Karson yelled back through his own laughter.

Link thought he responded with "where do you think we're going?" but it must have sounded different to them, slurred and scrambled and hilarious, because they all laughed before Karson yelled back again.

"Goddess, Zel, he's so drunk. Get him home. Quick."

She chuckled, "I know, I know. We're going."

One of the last things he remembers is being back home in the loft, sitting on the bed, watching Zel's white dress fall away from her shoulders and onto the floor.

---

"All done?" Zelda asks when his retching stops.

She feels Link nod twice, then cautiously pull back from the edge of the wooden bridge. She lets go of the gentle hold she has on his hair as he repositions from all fours to plop down onto his backside. They couldn't even make it home all the way before Link's gluttonous meal came back up with all the alcohol he drank into his system.

"Sorry," he slurs as his head sways, then wipes his forearm across his mouth.

"Don't be. You had fun tonight, right?" she asks, and considers his unabashed laughter as a yes.

"Can we sleep here tonight? Let's sleep here." Link says.

"What— on the bridge?" He nods at her question, but she shakes her head and squeezes his shoulder, "no Link, one of us will accidentally fall off the bridge in our sleep, and by one of us, I mean you. Besides, we need to get you out of that dirty shirt." He pouts but doesn't protest, and with a couple failed attempts, she's able to get Link onto his feet and walking towards the house again.

Leaning him against the wooden terrace, Zelda quickly retrieves their hidden key from the small toad house Link made out of left over wood from his bird houses. She just manages to get the door open when Link mumbles out a warning that he's slipping, and she catches him before he's able to fall completely. It's an impressive success that she's able to get him through the door and lock it behind him, but the stairs are another challenge entirely.

"We should….we should…." He repeats over and over again after every fumbled step he makes up the stairs. When they get to the top of the loft, Link wobbles under her grip and reaches an uncoordinated hand out to steady himself between her and the handrail.

"We should be partners," He hiccups and her smile grows wider.

"You just spent the whole evening telling everyone we're in a relationship so...I think we are." She tries to get him to walk across the loft and onto the bed.

"No, no I mean -I mean like…like," He finally starts walking. "Like…..y'know?" His free hand moves in the air in discombobulated ways, but one of those gestures is the word 'kiss' in sign language.

"We are," she repeats and entwines her hand with the one that's dangling over her shoulders. They're walking at a snails pace, but they're almost to the bed.

"We are!?" His voice raises several octaves higher, sounding so innocently sweet and excited. "That's so awesome," his hand squeezes against hers and she does it back.

They get to the edge of the bed and she tries her best to get him to sit down. It's awkward and clumsy, and he's doing nothing to help, just smiling at himself like a fool, not letting go of her hand until it's bent in such an odd angle that she has to pry his fingers from hers. It's a struggle, but Link is eventually sitting on the bed, swaying slightly with fingertips ghostly along the sheets.

He looks up at her as she stands over him, "can I kiss you?"

"Anytime you want," she smiles.

"Now?" His eyes are bright and couldn't be more ecstatic.

She can't hold back the loud laugh escaping her throat, "not a chance. You just got sick over the bridge." She folds over him when his head drops to his chest and his mouth starts to form into a frown, "—but whenever you're sober and ready, you can kiss me."

"'Kay," he smiles bashfully, then raises his head to meet her eyes. They stare at each other for a long time; relaxed expressions and rosy cheeks. She can see Link's eyes quivering back and forth between her own, but she can't tell whether that's because he's so drunk or if he's looking at her that intensely, until he eventually says, "we've kissed before."

"Ha! Is that so? —what do you remember?" she asks with a cheeky grin, calling his drunken bluff.

He spends an awfully long time thinking about it, then answers, "A bed."

"Yes, many kisses happen in a bed," she nods and moves a strand of hair out of his eyes.

"I had a broken arm."

Her hearts stops beating for a second. "What?" She says.

"What?"

"What did you say?"

"What did I say?"

"Just now, what did you say?"

"I asked you what I said."

"No, Link, before."

He raises an eyebrow at her, then hiccups. "What?"

Zelda opens her mouth to try him again, but then decides against it. He's too far gone now to go backwards on his words, but he was right. The first time they ever kissed, he had a broken arm.

"I'm going to go downstairs and get a few things for you, will you be alright without me for two minutes?"

He tries to nod but his head falls forward a bit too far and his balance is off, so he almost crashes into her. She steadies him by the shoulders and pushes him back into his regular seated position as Link laughs so hard, he snorts.

"Try to take that dirty shirt off," she instructs, and Link gives her a lazy thumbs up.

Ruffling his hair and chastely kissing his forehead, Zelda leaves to dart down the stairs and tries to collect everything quickly. She grabs their large metal bowl Link uses for vegetable scraps so he can dump them into his rapidly growing compost pile, or to feed the cuccos —but this will most likely come in handy incase Link gets sick again. She fills a pitcher of water, grabs one of his empty mason jars, a bowl, and a washcloth from the clean stack of laundry. That's when she starts to hear the giggling.

She looks up to see Link leaning against the balustrade, one elbow on the rail and the other dangling over the edge.

"I can see down your dress." His smile is wide and cheeky and absolutely puckish, and it makes her wonder if he's ever had a fun, drunken night like this before. It's a bittersweet thought because he probably never has, but he's had one now and that's all that matters.

She just smiles back at him, shakes her head, and chuckles softly.

She returns to the loft, balancing the items in her hands as she walks up the stairs. When she gets to the top, Link is still fully dressed, but sitting on the edge of the bed again, smiling at her sweetly.

Zelda places everything on the nightstand and tsks her tongue at him. "Link, you were suppose to start undressing."

"I need help." He says, and reaches for a button on his shirt. From the disheveled appearance, it does look like he tried and even successfully undid one, but couldn't get anymore.

She sighs through her smile and begins to undress him. Kneeling on the floor between his legs, she takes her time unbuttoning his shirt because his face is tilted down to her, calm and sweet and smiling so genuinely, she can't get over it.

"Can you call me sweetie?" Link whispers, "I like when you do that."

"You do?" Zelda tries to recall when she's actually called him that. Then she remembers once in Kakariko when she was scaring off Rola.

"Yeah. Makes me feel sweetie." He says, which doesn't make sense.

"I will, when you've earned it," She flirts, and starts to tug at his now fully unbuttoned shirt that's tucked into his pants. Taking Link's shirt off is another challenge that Zelda has totally prepared for. After she watched him guzzle down his third drink of the night, she quit drinking herself, even though she was still nursing her first ale at the time. He deserves to have fun, dance, and party at a place he knows he'll be safe and cared for, and she feels absolutely honored that he feels like he's taken care of when he's around her.

Link's shirt is finally off, so she crumples it up and tosses it towards the stairs, then starts pulling off his boots. They're covered in mud and spilt beer, and they smell absolutely horrid, but Link grips the bed as she pulls at his feet, and they're both laughing hysterically by the time he's down to just his socks and trousers. When her hands reach for his belt, Link stops her.

Unusually graceful for a drunk person, but still swaying slightly, Link pulls both her hands into each of his and grazes his thumbs over her knuckles. His hands are warm, like they always are, and he stares down at their hands for such a long time that if Zelda wasn't looking at his eyes, she'd think he fell asleep.

"Let's take your belt off," she suggests and tries to get her hands out of his, but his grip tightens playfully.

"Take your dress off."

"Pardon?" She breathes, a little thrown off by his boldness. "We're taking off your clothes because they're dirty."

"So is your dress." He glances at a stain she hasn't noticed was there before. It must have happened when she was trying to find Purah through the crowd and ended up becoming distracted by the dessert table. She had two generous slices of fruit pie with fresh cream, and now she can see there's a small purple stain over her breast. "It's only fair," Link sighs loudly, and releases her hands to sturdy himself on the bed as he cocks his head to the side and waits.

"You are aware that I don't have anything under this besides underwear, right?" She eyes him.

"Me neither," He rubs a hand over his bare chest then repeats, "me neither."

Very slowly she gets up from her kneeling position beside the bed, and stands over him. She's a little nervous for some reason. True, he's going to be just as bare, if not more, once they take his trousers off, there's a fair chance he probably won't remember this in the morning anyways, and Link has seen her naked before, but not in this brave new world yet. Not when his memory is gone, and he's drunk and smiling and more open about his feelings than he was this morning. Zelda gives herself a long time to consider what she should do in this situation, but then, with slow, confident fingers, she begins to unbutton her dress.

He doesn't move when her hands reach behind her for the clasps, doesn't question that it's suspiciously easy for her to undo them when she needed his assistance earlier. Link just smiles smugly and triumphantly, until the dress loosens around her figure and his face suddenly isn't so cheeky anymore. As the garment falls to the ground, his face falls too; cascading with a soft wonder in his eyes and a gasp caught in his throat like someone had just punched the air right out of him.

All she's wearing is simple underwear. White, high-waisted, with thin straps, and a comfortable white bralette. It's nothing fancy and everything plain, but Link must see it very differently. But then his face begins to weaken, and his head drops into his chest.

"Link, what's wrong? Is it me?" She kneels between his legs again, and reaches a hand out to touch his shoulder, but he clumsily tries to bat it away. Her throat begins to close up and she's suddenly so ashamed at herself by giving in to the request of an intoxicated person. "Do I make you uncomfortable? I—I'm sorry. I shouldn't have—"

"No," he sounds like he's going to cry, "you're fucking perfect and I'm...I'm —this."

"What do you mean?" She places a soft hand on his thigh, and he allows it.

He uses two words to explain everything. "My scars." He takes a long inhale and shuts his eyes tightly.

She sighs and watches him carefully. He's still very thin and with all the training he's been doing, he's still nowhere close to how strong he used to be, but he's been so patient with himself lately, and working hard everyday, he even has new definition in his abdomen. Yet, all Link sees in himself are defects and flaws, failures, and the remnants of a broken man. No wonder he's having such a hard time allowing himself to feel anything.

"I don't see you the way you see yourself, Link." Zelda moves her hand over his and begins to gently slide it up his arm, past his bicep, over his shoulder, and stops when she's framing his jaw and her thumb is grazing across a small scar on his cheek. Link leans into her touch and eventually, with a drunken daze, his blue eyes meets hers.

"I see you how you see me. Perfect."

"...You do?" He hiccups.

Sure, she says in her head. Honestly, he could do with a comb through his hair and his breath stinks, but that's a comment for a different time. She nods and smiles fondly.

Link places his hand over hers that's caressing his face and squeezes it gently. Even with all the alcohol in his system, he still manages to guide her hand over to his mouth to place a soft kiss in her palm with dexterity and a smoothness that flutters her heart a little bit.

Taking Link's pants off was a struggle that was oddly arousing, but strangely humorous at the same time. To just undo his belt, she had to plant both her knees on the bed as she straddled one of his thighs while Link laid on his back with his hands over his face, laughing. He lifted his hips off the bed obediently when she instructed, so the belt could slide easier along his trouser loops, but as she began to unbutton them at the crotch, Link began moaning deep in his chest and Zelda knew she couldn't dawdle any longer. She got his pants off as fast as she could, washed his face and made him drink a glass of water, then tucked him into bed. By the time she slid her sleeping tunic over her shoulders, Link was snoring so obnoxiously, he was completely oblivious that she snuck down the stairs and into the study, sat atop the desk in the same way she had been that morning, closed her eyes and touched herself, imagining a world where they were closer and what would happen if they were.

Her physical restraint would not have been strong enough that night if Link reached for her hands and guided them along the bulge in his pants. If he simply just asked if she could get on top of him, she would've. There was only two flimsy pieces of fabric trapped between them and there's no telling when, or if, she could stop him from springing loose from his underwear as he sighed out a plea how badly he wants her. He'd work her up with his fingers until she begged for more and then he'd guide himself inside her, and she would have rode him as her nails dug into his chest and his hands grabbed at her ass, and she'd rock easily and grind harder, throw her head back and moan even after he choked out a warning because his husky, desperate whines would have only pulled her over the edge right along with him.

Gods, she makes it sound so simple.

---

It's too bright. It's too loud. Everything hurts, and his throat is dry. He takes a long inhale and pathetically tries to turn over on his back, but that hurts too, so Link lays on his side while he tries to open his eyes.

Why is it so bright even though Zel closed all the blinds? Why is it so loud when she's tip-toeing as quietly as she can up to the loft? He doesn't try to speak until Zel has placed a plate of food and a new pitcher of water on the nightstand for him.

"Am I dead?" He croaks. His voice is hoarse and scratchy, and it's barely a whisper.

"Hardly," she laughs softly before kneeling to sit on her shins by the bed. She's in her sleeping tunic and they'll probably both be lounging in their pajamas all day.

Then it dawns on him that he's not wearing any.

"Did you undress me last night?" He vaguely remembers.

"I...well..yes," she confesses sheepishly. "There was beer all over your clothes and just taking them off was a challenge, so I didn't even try to put your pajamas on you, I'm sorry." She looks at him shyly until she notices his smile.

"Thanks for...all you did." It's so stupid how tough it is just to speak.

"It was my pleasure," she smiles and nibbles on a piece of goats cheese from the plate she brought up. "You're a very pleasant drunk. Some people can't stop crying, or some get aggressive, but you just couldn't stop laughing at everything. It was a fun experience to learn that about you."

"Happy to oblige," he sneers and she chuckles.

"Karson stopped by with his new...partner, earlier this morning. They brought over a plate of leftovers from the festival. The fats of the cheese and sausages should help absorb all that alcohol in your system."

She makes him sit up for a moment to guzzle down some water, and Link manages to eat a couple pieces of sausage, even though that's the very last thing he wants to do. He doesn't want to do anything. He barely wants to move from this bed all day, but for some annoying reason, he feels guilty about all the fun he's been having in Hateno, especially with last night, and now he can't get his responsibilities out of his head.

"Zel, we need to go to the Beasts," he says as he does the exact opposite by laying back down on the mattress and pulling the blanket over his shoulder.

She smiles as she places her elbows on the edge of the bed, close to his face. "You're not going anywhere today. You wouldn't last two seconds on a galloping horse."

She's right. His headache is getting worse just thinking about it.

"Tomorrow then?"

"If you'd like," she chirps, then meets his eyes with a wink and adds, "...sweetie."

He can't help the long, sated sigh that escapes his mouth when he hears that sugar-coated word so soft and honest, spoken with a tune in her voice designed only for his ears, that it makes him close his eyes, marvel in the fact that yes, this is indeed his life, then repeats the word to feel how sweet it sounds on his own tongue.

"Sweetie..." he whispers with a smile before he drifts off to sleep again.