❝ "madly"? ❞ it's a strong adjective, she thinks — and one that she's very undeserving of. still, she hasn't allowed the feeling of it to stray from her lips, holds him by the collar of his shirt to keep their mouths touching. (she's madly in love with you, too, kaidan alenko. that's why she's looking at you like you're the moon in the sky.) ❝ say it again. tell me that you're madly in love with me. ❞
HE’S ALWAYS HELD ONTO HER LIKE SHE’S THE MOST PRECIOUS THING IN THE WORLD. like if he lets go he’ll lose her. like there is nothing he’d rather hold onto more than the woman he loves. madly.
and she’s got a hold of him, too, keeping him close enough that their lips haven’t stopped brushing up against one another’s, and every time their eyes find each other’s his heart melts just a little more. nothing else has ever felt so sure.
say it again. tell me that you’re madly in love with me.
he flusters, if only a little, exhales a gentle laugh, if only to acknowledge that tiny, annoying part of his brain that tells him he’s being dramatic. but that doesn’t change the fact that he means it, that it’s true. his following pause is not hesitation ; it’s deliberate, drawn out only so that he might kiss her again, meaningful, lingering, all soft.
and when he finally goes to speak again, their lips are still touching, and he’s got a gentle hold upon her chin, angles to look straight into her eyes.
“ i’m madly in love with you, elizabeth, ” he breathes, a raspy whisper, and he only speaks so softly because if he were to say it any louder there will be no mistaking the thick layer of emotion in his voice, emotion that is ready to overwhelm him. “ my love, you are my universe. ”