amnesiac-pawn:
Cinnamon and Peaches (Reprise)
A soft hum voices his response: No, I’m pretty alright, actually. It was something Ilyana knew well, no doubt; even in underwater pancake houses, she would recognize the absolute bliss radiating off her mage in waves.
It’s quiet, tonight. Much like that first fire they shared all that time ago.
( Every day spent in agony, should she part. )
When her tummy rumbles, it’s instinct to press his hand against her stomach before she scoots away just a bit to retrieve her basket. Immediately, he’s hit with a combination he never expected to fall in love with. Before everything is unveiled, Morgan reaches for one of those little chocolate pieces, which he happily pops into his mouth before doing the same for Ilyana (fingers lingering against her lips, of course).
He helps to lay things out without a second thought. Everything is close enough to be within reach, but far enough away that as they shuffle around, they won’t accidentally get any food on their blankets or clothes. A few careful moments are spent setting up a tiny s’more station, rationing crackers to chocolate, so they can more easily create their treats upon proper roasting. Soon enough, Ilyana’s back in his arms where she belongs, and Morgan is stabbing a marshmallow of his own.
“I never told you,” his voice is far quieter than usual as he speaks in her ear. (Marshmallow slowly spins near the embers. None of that marshmallow-on-fire bullshit.)
“That night, by the fire? When you had chocolate all over your mouth? I wanted desperately to lean over and wipe it clean off.” A soft chuckle that shakes his chest—and her alongside it. “And then you wiped your mouth and licked your fingers clean.”
Hex pulls thunder a little closer, chin hooking over shoulder to nestle together as one. “And when you ate out of my hand, I knew I was yours.”
Her first s’more is in her mouth before he even finishes roasting his first ‘mallow, but watching her happily crunch down on that simple little treat… well, he couldn’t not hand over his sandwich upon its formation. Fingers trace her lips before she can bite down (crumbs and all), a lingering sigh in his throat.
“I love you.” And that’s all they need.
ϟ–Little touches have grown so common between them. She doesn’t even think twice when his hand lands on her tummy, or the way his fingertips brush along her arm as she unearths all their goodies.
A distraction tactic, she soon realizes. Piece of chocolate is stolen before she can blink. Thunder mage prepares to tease her beloved, but when she turns to face him, another chocolate piece greets her. It’s gone in a matter of milliseconds, followed by a sweet kiss to the pads of his fingers in thanks.
They work together with an ease born of practice. Everything is organized, of course, dishes set out in such a way to avoid any unfortunate spills. He plans it out so carefully as well, finding the most efficient way to prepare everything in anticipation of her ravenous hunger.
Ilyana finds her place in his arms with a soft, happy sigh. His voice tickles her ear; the crackle of the fire nearly covers his words. She’s never heard him speak so softly. Lips curl up into a smile at the memory, laughing along with him.
Peaches and the faintest hint of parchment mix with smoke and sugar from the fire. Four very distinct smells, but ones that feel right here in this moment. It’s then, as he continues speaking, that she knows she’ll never forget this for as long as she lives.
She does move a scant few inches to assemble her s’more, crunching down without a care in the world. It’s gone by the time Morgan puts his own treat together—
—“…hex boy,” she whispers. Amethyst finds honey, just like that night so long ago. Ilyana accepts his offering, raising halfway to her lips before she lowers it. The kiss is quick, nothing more than a chocolate-stained peck. Slightly sticky hands find his, pressing the s’more back into his grip. “…there’s plenty…to enjoy…”
Indeed, she reaches for another marshmallow.
“I love you…so much…”












