Hello~ this is for the wonderful anon who was kind enough to throw me a bone and drop me a prompt (’: thank you so much, and I hope this is okay.
Maybe I’ll post a part 2 that will probably be a little NSFW, but till then, I hope you like it! (:
The door slams behind them and their panting fades with the laughter disappearing down the corridor. The room is quiet, and soon the only sounds are the soft hum of the air conditioning and their breaths, gentle and slow, but the tension is palpable. Only moments before, they’d been laughing in the hallway as they stumbled in, separating from their group of friends. But the reality of the bright hallway and the noise of the wedding reception have faded away, stripped from their chests now that they’re alone.
Maka is beautiful, he thinks. Standing there, barefoot, in her wedding dress, with her hair loose from the intricate up-do it had been in as she stepped almost shyly up to the altar.
He’s seen all sides of her - in battle, bloodied and bruised, but never yielding. In anger, cheeks flushed, fists clenched, her eyes burning with the intensity of her rage. Her brows furrowed with confusion, bent with the effort of stopping the tears as they burn down her cheeks. Her green eyes sparkling - just like they are in this moment - and the soft tinkling of her laugh as the sun plays off the tips of her hair.
He’s seen the side of her that blushes as she tries not to remove her clothes too awkwardly, self-conscious of her body before him when all he wants to do is kiss every inch of her skin. He’s seen the worrywart that hovers around him when he’s sick, the sleepy girl who wants nothing more than to curl up with him on a cold day.
He loves every part of her, even if he hates some of them sometimes, because put together they form the person he loves the most - the most beautiful woman in the world. He’s the luckiest man alive, because he gets to call her his wife.
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