@unfailedheart
the last time his hands were sweating this much, he was pacing inside a theater grander than anywhere he’d even been in his life, hoping that anya could convince the dowager empress that she was indeed her granddaughter, nerves frayed despite knowing she was who was being searched for. of course, that was followed by her shoving his chest and yelling at him for his dishonesty and then disrespecting her grandmother immediately after. dmitry was hoping tonight would go a little smoother than that.
so he distracts himself from the burning sensation that radiated from the small box in his pocket by admiring anya as they strolled leisurely down her grandfather’s bridge, arm in arm. she looked radiant as always, eyes alight with wonder and hair carefully pulled from her face, oblivious to his lovesick gaze.
they had traveled away from paris for a time, traveled and saw more of the world and what it had to offer, but had come back after a year’s time as promised to her nona ( as well as vlad and lily ). each had been overjoyed to see them, and dmitry had to admit he’d missed vlad greatly in their time apart. but now they had a quiet moment to themselves in the cooling parisian evening, the lights along the bridge being lit as stone passed under their feet, and he was soaking it in. the warm welcome they had received hadn’t thrown him, but the formality it was held with did. because while the couple had been in their own little bubble as they traveled, they were back where they started and he was reminded of her roots all over again. the feeling of inadequacy had captured his stomach and knotted it, and the thought of losing her to someone of a higher standing ( she could only go up from here, he reasons ) is almost too much to bear. so after days agonizing over it, and rambling to an amused vlad, he’d gone ahead and purchased a ring ( with lily’s help ), and planned to pop the question when he felt the time was right that night. it just-- hadn’t been the right time yet.
but he wasn’t supposed to force it,right?
“can you believe it’s been over a year since we left?” he muses, eyes still glued to her as the setting sun illuminated her face, bathing it in auroral light.
