Itâs funny how one moment he had been simply strolling through a museum, and the next he had been faced with the person that would change his life. He hadnât even been looking for anyone, was too busy trying to recover from the trauma experienced in the battlefield, but heâd found Anton. Heâd found him and he fell in love and built a life with him. This crappy apartment that they share together had become a home, even when the heating didnât work and the floorboards squeaked. Theyâd bought Yoda together, painted the entire apartment together, at least tried to cook together, even if Michel had very nearly burned their kitchen down in the process. Theyâd picked out these sheets together, had decorated the rooms together, decided whose drawers would be whose, divided the bathroom equally, and Michel didnât even mind when Antonâs crap ended up on his side. His mornings were made up of moving around each other in the kitchen and bathroom, and sharing kisses goodbye that lasted long enough to make them both late. His evenings were filled with soft banter about their days, being unable to keep his hands to himself and pulling his boyfriend close at night instead of pulling the blankets tighter around himself. Staring at Anton now, Michel can easily admit that every moment they had spent together had been the best moments of his life. Even when they fought with each other and he couldnât stand the sight of his face that day, he loved Anton above all else.Â
âMarry me.â He lets it slip from his mouth, surprising even himself. The words have been on the tip of his tongue for months now, the ring had been sitting in his drawer for weeks and heâd imagined a million different ways he could do it, had been overthinking it so much that he simply couldnât settle on one scenario, but none of them felt as right as this. In the midst of a soft domestic moment filled with adoration, and itâs so entirely them. Mica laughs softly, hands sliding up to cup Antonâs face between them as he smiles wide. âThis wasnâtâŠIâve wanted to ask for so long, and this wasnât how I pictured it. But I meant it when I said this was my favourite part of the day, schatzi. Youâre my favourite part of every day, and I want a million more moments like this. Just you and me and our life together.â His heart pounds at what feels the pace of a hummingbirds, excitement and nerves running through his veins as caution is thrown entirely to the wind and he hands over the power to destroy him completely. âI love you. More than I thought I could love anyone.â Heâd thought after heâd returned from war that such a thing wasnât possible. Heâd thought his soul had been darkened and twisted into something ugly and unlovable. And while that fact may still be true, Anton has pulled a warmth and lightness from him that he forgot even existed before. Heâd made him feel human once more and he doesnât think he could survive a single day without the light that Anton provided. âAnd I want to be bound to you in every possible way.â
His thumbs stroke across his loverâs cheeks and he wants to drink the moment in. He looks into brown eyes that heâs lost himself in a million times now and can not imagine never seeing again. His fingertips are brushing against dark, silky strands that heâs tangled his hands in more times than he can count, that he loves seeing splayed across his pillow morning out. His gaze falls briefly to the mouth that heâs elicited moans and gasps and laughs from day after day and he thinks heâd kiss him now if he didnât want an answer so badly. Finally, his gaze returns to Antonâs and God, he loves this man. Loves the way he makes Mica feel, loves the fact that he has someone in this world that understands him completely and he would quite happily live out the rest of his days making sure Anton felt the same. Heâs not a man of many words, but he makes a silent promise in that moment. He was going to be there through everything, thick and thin. He was going to go to every opening show and buy flowers every time. He was going to make a big deal of every tv show he was in and made sure everyone he knew made sure to watch it too. He was going to try and find the patience not to get mad every time he found glitter glue on the bathroom floor, and to make sure he made up for it when he got angry regardless. He would change the kitty litters without complaint, do the dishes after Anton cooked. And above all else, he would be there for him through everything. He would love him every single moment of the rest of his life. âSo, Anton Louis Luxemburg. Will you marry me?â
he gapes at michel, somewhere between surprised and overwhelmed; slack-jawed and stunned and yet trying his hardest to not to cry. âyouâre crazy,â anton laughs, sitting up in bed as quickly as he can, arms tight around michelâs waist to keep him from going anywhere. thereâs a little voice in his head thatâs telling him to hold on as hard as humanly possible, telling him to make sure heâs not suddenly going to wake up and find out this is a dream heâs been waiting on for so very long. ( heâs pretty sure heâs had this dream before - even while heâs been awake. pretty sure heâs imagined those words coming from micaâs lips as theyâve lounged in bed on early sunday mornings, legs tangled and breaths intermingled. heâs wanted to hear them as theyâve trudged home through the snow on many a winter night, holding on to each otherâs hands as if they might suddenly lose each other in the cold drift. heâs wanted to ask the question himself, wanted to whisper it against his boyfriendâs neck or press it against his hair. heâs wanted to turn around in his arms in the middle of the night and say the words between them for years now. ) âyouâre absolute crazy, i love you - â anton cuts himself off with a sigh, burying his head against micaâs chest, unable to keep the biggest fucking smile off of his face, blinking away the beginnings of tears and almost shaking with excitement. this is not how he pictured it - not even close. he didnât expect there to be takeaway on the nightstand and rumpled covers all around them. he didnât expect michel to be in his lap, and he sure as hell didnât expect his hair to be an absolute mess. he didnât expect any of this. he wouldnât change a single fucking thing. âi love you, you infuriatingly lovely man.â he tilts his head back, dark eyes bright and wet, bottom lip pulled between his teeth. âi canât believe you just proposed to me here - â anton gestured to their room, shaking his head with a giggle, â - but i still love you.â
he doesnât need to think about the answer, though; doesnât even need to take his time, doesnât need to mull over it for even the skin of a moment. because heâs pretty sure heâs known the answer since the first time they met, since heâd turned and smiled at a gorgeous stranger and felt absolutely bowled over. heâs known the answer since they moved into this shoddy flat, since they painted the living rooms walls that awful yellow and laughed into messy kisses on the newspaper covered floors. heâs known the answer all those very many times that heâs stood cooking dinner and blown over a spoonful of sauce, passing it over for mica to taste and smiling affectionately at his reply. hell, heâs known the answer on all those mornings when theyâve moved around each other symbiotically, getting dressed and doing their hair; pulling each other in for drawn out kisses and drinking their morning coffee pressed against each other on the tube. anton knows heâs a lot to handle - knows heâs more than what anyoneâs ever tried to handle. heâs got a lot of baggage, literal and metaphorical. he steals clothes even though he has more clothes than heâll ever wear; it takes him at least an hour to put his face on in the morning; heâs never been appropriate in his entire life, and heâs pretty sure he never will be. but micaâs taken him for what he is, whether thatâs in skirts on a july evening out or hoodies in the dead cold of winter. heâs taken him for all his tantrums and insecurities, held his hand through every shitty performance review and kissed him goodnight even when theyâve had a row. anton knows, he does. he knows that michelâs got his own demons, that there are some things heâll never understand, that his boyfriend has his own moments of impatience. but he wants to be there for every single one of them, and heâs known that for four years, ever since he caught sight of him in the middle of a crowded museum.Â
flipping them over, he pushes mica down onto the mattress until theyâre face to face, chest to chest, legs a tangle of limbs. he wants this forever - them, their little world. in the end, he doesnât really need much at all. âyouâre my favourite part of every day too,â anton replies, knocking their noses together as he brushes his hair off his face and leans in for a chaste kiss. heâs never understood the point of family because heâs never had much of one, but. but michel is the family he wants - the family he wants to stand up and declare himself to, because this is the one person who can make his heart beat out of his ribcage and calm down all at once. michel is the one person he can give himself to and know heâs completely safe. his world is rose-coloured with or without glasses and anton canât imagine a life without this man. âi love you too, shatzi.â he smiles, wide and easy and honest. he wants to see mica graduate art school and he wants another cat, maybe even a dog. he wants a wedding where they donât have to pretend like theyâre anything but who they are, and he wants a honeymoon where he can leave bruises and promises against micaâs hips. he wants an eternity of laughs shared over the bathroom sink and he wants to huddle close in the middle of every single night because heâs sure theyâre together. he wants everything they can have in this lifetime, heâll get the rest in another. âi love you more than you will ever know and more than i can ever tell you.â anton kisses his cheek, hands cupped around his jaw. â michel johann kemmerich, of course iâll fucking marry you.â laughing, he dips in for a longer kiss, insistent and sloppy. âiâm going to be the best goddamn husband youâve ever had.â
