cuddling in bed after sex with pieck, both just a bit sweaty and glowy with post-orgasm bliss. she’s got her fingers playing with the ends of you hair, and you’re drawing delicate shapes on her soft skin with your finger.
everything’s just so quiet and domestic, and just feels right.
“i want to marry you... so much,” she confesses quietly, nose pressing against your temple, “i think about it a lot these days... especially with you spending so much time here. with me.”
she quickly adds on: “this isn’t a proposal, so you don’t need to give me an answer - at least, not yet. i want to do something for a proposal.”
little do you know, a little black box has been burning away in her sock drawer for weeks now - but she’s just been too anxious to ask
