[She says, as she leans into him and figures out how to get her legs up onto the sofa, bent at the knees and still blanketed under her skirt so she's curled catlike against him, and almost certainly draws attention to it specifically so that now he'll be trapped thinking about it this whole time.]
[But he would dare to kiss the top of her head several times over, both arms wrapping around her waist gently. A few moments of gentle quiet.
Fuck. She's beautiful like this. Always has been. Always will be. But being curled up like this feels like the first time they found themselves like this in the library, and that second first time feeling never happens.
[He's got his arms around her, yes, but hers are free, and with the way she's angled into him, it's not at all difficult to shift her arm around and lightly walk her index and middle fingers up his chest.]
[That's unfair, Sypha. But he kisses the top of her head to re-center, and then keeps going.]
There's little point in assuming that the way things are will change between the three of us. [They've been rocky steady as anything since the two came back to the castle for the very first time.] And if we did not live outside of any law of our own, I would worry about the feasibility of anything I am about to say, for no church or court would grant us this one thing.
[He's gentle as he keeps speaking. Confident, but only just so.]
I'd like to solemnize what is already here. If only between us three. If only for our own pleasure and joy of it. I cannot do that without the two of you in agreement.
[That is a lot of roundabout words to sift through and reorganize in order to more clearly see the meaning in the midst of them, but fortunately she is a Speaker and words are what she Does and so it's sooner rather than later that the recognition sinks in.]
...Alucard.
[That's worthy of lifting her head up to look him in the eyes.]
Did you trick me into a fancy dress just so that I would look nice when you asked me to marry you?
Are you getting anxious because I have not answered you yet?
[Okay, okay, enough is enough.]
I love you. There is nothing in the world that makes me happier than when I am with you, and with Trevor. I don't care, either, if the church or the courts or if anyone else even knows. I just know I want you to smile at me like that, forever.
[She reaches up, brushing her fingers along the line of his jaw, the way she knows he likes.]
[What else is there to do then? Kiss the fingers that brush along his jawline. Then Sypha's hand in full, and then her lips, because there are no more words needed. For all he cares, whatever they decide to do to make this official could be done now, and he'd be as happy for those words as any other vow made.
Yes.
He never doubted. But the words are still lovely to hear.]
[No interventions. Just sitting here and listening to this with absolute delight because all that's going through Alucard's head (beyond what this evening shall be like) is my wife.]
Because you've yet to utter the words Her Royal Highness. Mistake one. Mistake two, thinking that there's any title I care more about than getting to be one of two husbands to you.
[Sypha's right. Because his face somehow manages to grow fonder, softer, and even more stupidly, desperately, ridiculously happy than it already is . There are no tears, but the warmth and adoration that radiates off that face could get a field to grow.]
My wife.
[And okay, maybe he's a little teared up now, but that's going to be solved with another kiss because shut up.]
[Is it time for swooning into his arms because this seems like a great time to just drape herself all over him, which is also conducive to kissing so it works out.]
Your wife!
[They've done reverence; now this iteration rings with joy and delight and elation.]
Your wife, that's it, you're going to have me as your wife! And when I sleep on you in the summers and make you hot from soaking up all of your coolness, you will just have to accept it as my wife privilege!
[Better her than him, which is liable to happen about now.]
Yes.
[Yes to all of it. Yes to the tone of this and the sheer joy of hearing Sypha say it too. Maybe he'll just start calling her that today, maybe not, but the sheer heights that his heart has just soared to are impossible to articulate.]
[She goes with him obligingly, lifting her chin for a kiss that feels like it's straight out of a fairy tale itself, and when he's done she steals a second and a third before she lets him get away.
If she weren't in her exceedingly fancy dress, and thus worried about taking good care of it, she'd be far more maneuverable at the moment. But as it is, she still manages to twist a little and situate herself so that she can get in close to his ear, which is mostly what she's after because she finds she wants, more than anything, to hear him laugh like that again.
Maybe she really is a furnace, she thinks idly. Something to warm him from the outside when he draws near to it, helping the cold spot in the room lose its chill when it has no way of accomplishing that itself.]
Your wife, your wife, your wife.
[Like a chant, like a spell, three times in all, and she presses each one against his ear, velvet and hot.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[She says, as she leans into him and figures out how to get her legs up onto the sofa, bent at the knees and still blanketed under her skirt so she's curled catlike against him, and almost certainly draws attention to it specifically so that now he'll be trapped thinking about it this whole time.]
This is very nice. I like this.
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[But he would dare to kiss the top of her head several times over, both arms wrapping around her waist gently. A few moments of gentle quiet.
Fuck. She's beautiful like this. Always has been. Always will be. But being curled up like this feels like the first time they found themselves like this in the library, and that second first time feeling never happens.
Now, then.]
I've been thinking.
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[He's got his arms around her, yes, but hers are free, and with the way she's angled into him, it's not at all difficult to shift her arm around and lightly walk her index and middle fingers up his chest.]
And what have you been thinking about?
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[That's unfair, Sypha. But he kisses the top of her head to re-center, and then keeps going.]
There's little point in assuming that the way things are will change between the three of us. [They've been rocky steady as anything since the two came back to the castle for the very first time.] And if we did not live outside of any law of our own, I would worry about the feasibility of anything I am about to say, for no church or court would grant us this one thing.
[He's gentle as he keeps speaking. Confident, but only just so.]
I'd like to solemnize what is already here. If only between us three. If only for our own pleasure and joy of it. I cannot do that without the two of you in agreement.
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[That is a lot of roundabout words to sift through and reorganize in order to more clearly see the meaning in the midst of them, but fortunately she is a Speaker and words are what she Does and so it's sooner rather than later that the recognition sinks in.]
...Alucard.
[That's worthy of lifting her head up to look him in the eyes.]
Did you trick me into a fancy dress just so that I would look nice when you asked me to marry you?
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[He's smiling without being goddamn smug about it, which means he's very serious.]
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[HE IS NOT OFF THE HOOK YET]
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[BITE HIM SYPHA.]
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[Okay, okay, enough is enough.]
I love you. There is nothing in the world that makes me happier than when I am with you, and with Trevor. I don't care, either, if the church or the courts or if anyone else even knows. I just know I want you to smile at me like that, forever.
[She reaches up, brushing her fingers along the line of his jaw, the way she knows he likes.]
Adrian Ţepeş, my answer is yes.
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Yes.
He never doubted. But the words are still lovely to hear.]
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[Wait for it.]
...Adrian Belnades, more like.
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[So you know, duh. Of course.]
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[Okay, now she's just getting silly. An intervention is needed. Desperately.]
Handsome royal prince his highness Adrian Belnades.
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You keep excluding yourself, you know.
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[...]
How am I excluding myself, my handsome royal prince your highness?
[she's not even TRYING]
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[How dare he be so sweet as to make her blush like that. HOW DARE!!]
You're so romantic!
[why does this sound like a complaint]
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Yes. And you're having too much fun with names. Neither is a bad thing.
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[And she is going to watch his facial expression intently, because if she's right she isn't going to want to miss an instant of this.]
Your wife, the beautiful royal highness Sypha Belnades.
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My wife.
[And okay, maybe he's a little teared up now, but that's going to be solved with another kiss because shut up.]
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Your wife!
[They've done reverence; now this iteration rings with joy and delight and elation.]
Your wife, that's it, you're going to have me as your wife! And when I sleep on you in the summers and make you hot from soaking up all of your coolness, you will just have to accept it as my wife privilege!
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Yes.
[Yes to all of it. Yes to the tone of this and the sheer joy of hearing Sypha say it too. Maybe he'll just start calling her that today, maybe not, but the sheer heights that his heart has just soared to are impossible to articulate.]
Even the last one, furnace.
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[It doesn't matter. She's too happy to care, and feeding off of his happiness, besides.]
That's your beautiful wife Mrs. Furnace, I think!
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My apologies! I have caused such a great offense, and on such an auspicious day. There is only one price to pay for such a wrong done.
[Which is to stroke Sypha's cheek so very gently, before tilting her head up so he can kiss her yet again.]
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[She goes with him obligingly, lifting her chin for a kiss that feels like it's straight out of a fairy tale itself, and when he's done she steals a second and a third before she lets him get away.
If she weren't in her exceedingly fancy dress, and thus worried about taking good care of it, she'd be far more maneuverable at the moment. But as it is, she still manages to twist a little and situate herself so that she can get in close to his ear, which is mostly what she's after because she finds she wants, more than anything, to hear him laugh like that again.
Maybe she really is a furnace, she thinks idly. Something to warm him from the outside when he draws near to it, helping the cold spot in the room lose its chill when it has no way of accomplishing that itself.]
Your wife, your wife, your wife.
[Like a chant, like a spell, three times in all, and she presses each one against his ear, velvet and hot.]
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