Chapter Text
You took things slow after the dinner you shared, the both of you seeming to need time to adjust to having each other in your lives in a personal way once more. As slow as the progress was, it was steady, and your lives became more and more entangled as time went on. Dinner once a week became sharing lunches every other day, which became sharing almost every meal together. Long walks after dinner, your arm tucked into hers, became cuddling on the couch with a movie or two, which became sharing her bed when you were just too tired to walk the few hundred yards back to your own suite. Chaste kisses at the end of the night became heated makeout sessions that ended with your legs wrapped around her waist, which then became nights spent slowly undressing each other, mapping the contours of each other’s bodies all through the night as you shared in pleasure.
You fell into that comfortable rhythm you’d perfected so long ago, slipping into it like worn leather boots that were molded for you and you alone. Habits you’d forgotten where you had learned them suddenly started making sense again — you only bought red wine even though you didn’t mind the taste of white because that’s what Farah preferred; you slept on the left side of the bed because Farah had always slept on the right; you always picked the red toothbrushes out of the pack first, because Farah’s color was blue.
And the closer you became, you learned new habits to adjust to the people you’d become over the decades. You slept with a small nightlight now because Farah hated to wake in the pitch dark anymore, especially when nightmares chased her; you learned to dump the last bit of water in your glass into whichever plant was nearest, knowing their survival meant more to Farah than anything; you began to make tea as well as coffee in the mornings, knowing coffee made Farah too jittery these days.
More and more, you realized what your actions meant to Farah, and what they meant to you. More and more, you realized what you said to each other in those actions, even though you hadn’t said the words in eighteen years.
And one evening, when Farah had brought some paperwork home to finish at the kitchen table because she knew you liked to be together, even when working, you began to wonder why you hadn’t said it yet.
“I love you,” you blurted, realizing there wasn’t a reason not to, and her head popped up from her work to stare at you, eyes wide with surprise. “Or rather, I never stopped loving you,” you continued, shrugging as though this was the most simple thing. “I just stopped saying it.”
You watched as she stared at you a moment longer, her breath leaving her in a shuddering sigh.
And then she grinned, her eyes bright with joy and looking so much like the girl you first met that it made you laugh. She stood and came to you, sweeping you into her arms with a graceful gesture that made you squeak in surprise, and then she was kissing you, deep and greedy and in a way that made you want more, more, more.
“I never stopped either,” she said when you were forced to breathe. “I love you. I’ll always love you.”
You could remember the night you realized you wanted to marry her again clearer than anything. You laid tangled together in the sheets of her bed, talking of everything and nothing, the sort of nights that left your souls bared to one another.
And then Aster Dell came up. And the ghosts in her eyes clouded them until that gleam was gone again.
She told you everything — every detail, every second, every moment of that day that was burned into her memory. When she walked through those fields in her mind’s eye, you walked beside her, and held her hand through it all.
Tears slipped over her lashes when she described the ruins of the village she’d walked through. And when she began to choke on her grief, her words becoming hard and painful, you merely held her close to your heart and let all of the love you’d been holding back for years come out in a tidal wave.
And when she finally picked up her head and pressed her forehead to yours, you thought you felt something inside of her heal.
And then talk turned to lighter things. It turned to memories of the parties you threw at Alfea, and stories of your time apart; it turned to the gossip circulating the school and laughing so hard that tears rolled down your cheeks and your stomach ached, and with a comforting sort of understanding you realized that you never wanted to spend another day of your life without Farah by your side.
You thought of ways you could bring up marriage to her, thought of how to ask her if that was something she wanted again. Though you’d discussed your past and made peace with it, you worried marriage could be a sensitive topic, given the way your previous engagement had ended, and the last thing you wanted to do was upset the balance you had found with her again.
You still hadn’t thought of a way on the Saturday morning Farah had gently woken you, pressing soft kisses across your face until you stirred.
“What are you doing up?” you mumbled only half awake, and you felt Farah smile against your brow.
“I made you breakfast.”
You opened your eyes fully, raising a brow in surprise. “That’s quite romantic.”
She grinned at you and shifted until she was lying on her side. “I was hoping it would be.” She pressed one last quick kiss to your forehead before she rolled to sit up. “It’ll be ready soon if you want to get up, or I can bring it to you.”
“I’ll be up soon,” you said, frowning at the thought of getting food on the sheets.
You changed and brushed your teeth, and deemed that good enough before padding out to the kitchen, smiling at the sight of Farah pouring batter into a pan.
“When did you learn to make pancakes?” you asked her, unable to keep the teasing surprise out of your voice, and Farah shot you a coy look.
“I had young nieces and nephews, it was learn to make a good pancake or die.”
You chuckled at her dramatics and pressed yourself against her side, nosing at her shoulder in affection. “Well, it certainly smells like you succeeded.”
She hummed and turned into you, wrapping her arms around your waist before leaning in to kiss you. It was a solid kiss, comforting and strong, and you nearly melted into it before she pulled back suddenly, and you made a little questioning noise of displeasure.
She made a noise back at you that seemed to say ‘just wait a moment’ before she reached behind a jar full of spoons and spatulas to grab something you couldn’t see.
And then she showed you the ring box she held, open to show the glittering engagement ring inside.
You gaped at it a moment, completely caught off balance — in all your recent late night thoughts about marriage, never did you ever expect to receive a proposal out of the blue.
Words failed once, twice, and finally you blurted out the first thing that came to your mind. “You have those hidden everywhere?”
She let out a laugh that was half nerves, half humor. “Just the one. I was going to wait until we sat down to ask you, but — well, I just couldn’t wait.”
You stared at the ring for another moment, then looked over to her, a slow smile spreading across your face, “Marriage?”
She nodded. “Yes, marriage. But so much more, too.” She turned to lean her back against the island, pulling you along as she did. She held the box between you, a question yet to be answered, and tracing a finger down your cheek, she spoke again.
“I feared we had changed too much, in the years we were apart. I was scared we would begin again, only to fall apart. But being with you again, learning who you are, I… I realized that the people we’ve become fit just as well as the people we once were — better, even. Better because we’ve seen both sides of the coin, now, better because we’ve grown, and better because now that I remember what life is like when I’m with you, I know I’d be a fool to let that go.”
She took the ring out of the box and held it gingerly before you, continuing. “I propose to you marriage, but I propose so much more. I propose a partnership. I propose love, and trust, and faith and kindness and every bit of good in the world I can give to you. I want a life with you, this life with you. And if you’ll have it, I want a vow between us, a bond unbroken — my promise to you, for the rest of our lives.”
Farah held her breath, her proposal hanging between you along with the ring. And with a grin you thought would split your cheeks, you pulled her close and kissed her.
“Yes,” you murmured against her lips. “Yes, I want that too, yes, I’ll marry you.”
Farah was laughing against your mouth, a sound of pure joy that made your chest swell with warmth and light and love. You couldn’t seem to pull away from her, couldn’t break away from the swirling emotion in your heart that joined you together, that seemed to lift you higher and higher until you both could touch the clouds.
But when Farah pulled back and slid that ring onto your finger — you felt like you were home.