Chapter Text
Marksman was hiding something. Solus can tell, because since the exo had first stirred that morning he had been impossibly blank. He could pick nothing up- no emotions, no thoughts, an empty side of a bond usually bustling with intentions. It was… unnerving, but he had been able to push aside his nerves when his Guardian had pet sleepily at his shell and suggested they go skating for the day. (Marksman had quickly picked up ice skating, much to Solus' delight. It seemed his baking ability had been traded for his smoothness on the ice.)
They had spent most of the day on the ice, having found a frozen lake deep within the EDZ. Marksman had been gifted skates once Strider had noticed his love of the past time, and Solus enjoyed getting to watch the titan flow across the frozen water. For the first few hours, the exo had cradled him in his hands and moved like a dance; long, flowing motions as they spun and seemed to float above the water, quick twists and graceful dips as the steady sound of the blades cutting through the ice filled the pleasant quietness. (And Marksman looked distracted, despite the warmth in his gaze when he would look at the ghost, and Solus wished he knew what the Guardian was thinking.) Still, it had been lovely to dance on the frosted surface, even if anxiety still bubbled under his shell. His exo wouldn't hide anything bad, he knew, but… it had been impossibly long since he hadn't had access to their bond, and the sudden emptiness from Marksman's side was beginning to gnaw at his good mood. "Love?" He interrupted their quiet skating with a soft word, and Marksman's quick stop sent chips of ice into the air. He has the titan's attention- he knows, because Marksman stares down at him with that focused, piercing look,- and he shakes his shell softly before continuing. "Would it be alright if I sat back and watched you for a bit?" Marksman blinks once, then nods, gently butting his forehead to Solus' top flipper and humming softly. "Don't go too far?" He sounds gently concerned, and the ghost gave a motion like a nod. "Of course, I'll just be in the snow over there." He tilts his shell towards the bank they had come from, and once receiving another small nod from his titan, he made his way across the ice. The snow is cold, he knows, but it doesn't do much to stop him from resting atop a large rock to admire his Guardian. If there was one thing he would never tire of, it was watching Marksman do just about anything, and ice skating was no exception. Despite the more noticeable oddness in his Guardian's behavior- (he has his shoulders hunched down a bit more than usual, his chin angled similarly while his eyes scanned the ice. His steps were smaller but he took longer periods between them, and he turned his ankle slower between turns to go wide instead of quick, neat twists. Yes, his Guardian was certainly being off .)
He doesn't keep exact track of how long he sits watching the exo; long enough to go from noting all his different actions to admiring the way he looked under the brilliant sunlight. (His golden face reflected the sun in brilliant lights, graceful on the ice as he raced his reflection. There was something magical about watching the solar titan find peace here, something undeniably beautiful about him despite his lack of really doing anything at all. Of course, that may have just been Solus being sappy.) It's long enough for the sun to start sinking, painting the sky in brilliant shades of pink and orange, a masterpiece that matched the one on the ice, painting the clouds as though they could compete with the exo- they couldn't, but they made a pretty picture regardless . Marksman seemed to have come to a decision, not that Solus knew what exactly he had been deciding on, and he moved quickly across the ice towards the solid land. He nearly slips, skates scraping across the frozen surface, before he ends up sliding on his knees until he hits the snow. His hands hit the rock on each side of Solus with enough force his shell jumps, and Marksman's words come quick. "My purpose, my love, my world, my everything," his eyes are the color of honey, deep and glowing, a pool of liquid gold sparkling with determination. "We should get married." Less than a beat passes before the exo promptly falls back onto the ice, hitting it with a loud huff as he kicked his legs out and gained a terribly distraught expression. "Oh, oh no, that was supposed to be at least fifty times more romantic-"
"You want to- to marry, me?"
"What? I mean, of course- why wouldn't I?"
"But- but you want to marry, me? " Marksman looks terribly confused at his question, before covering his face in his hands and groaning into his fingers. "God, I knew I would mess it up." He sounds cross with himself, pressing his palms into his eyes and huffing. "I told Strider I would, and-" Solus gives an odd sound, high and shaky and unreadable, and Marksman jerks his head up and waves his hands around. "Oh, no, don't cry again, I hate when you cry, you deserve to be happy-" he is cut off when Solus connects to his face with enough force that he nearly falls back into against the ice, the ghost's warbling voice a welcomed distraction from the spark of pain. "No- I mean, yes, no I'm not crying because I'm not happy- I love you !" He laughs, light and musical (and trembling and weepy,) and Marksman cups his shell cautiously in both hands even as he nuzzled back into the affection. "Is that a yes?" He asks, soft and hesitant in a way that made Solus feel light and so deeply in love it was nearly frightening. "Yes, yes, I want- I'd love that," he giggles, the sound wet and sniffly, despite not being capable of actual tears or the need to breath. (And Marksman's shoulders release enough tension it's visible, and he heaves a heavy, trembling breath, his expression shifting from anxious to light, open adoration.) "I thought I messed it up," he admits with a small laugh, butting their faces together again and giving a rumbling purr.
The sudden emotion through the bond startled Solus. It was rushed and immediate- relief, love, that soft, fluttery sort of joy, an unspoken " thank you, I love you, you are my everything, my love, my soul, my purpose, the light of my life," and he gives another weeping laugh as the Guardian squeezes at his shell with his fingers and nuzzles his forehead to the space between the ghost's optic and top flipper. "I don't think I even could have said no." Solus admits, voice sparkling with the unseen grin. "Even if your methods were… a little less on the romantic side." Marksman groans again, deep and growly and pouty, pulling away from his little light and slanting his eyes. "Will I ever be able to live that down?"
"We should get married." Solus repeats, tone amused and teasing, and Marksman pokes at his shell with a playfully cross expression. "I should leave you here in the snow," he grumbles, as they begin back towards the tower. "How would we have a wedding then?" And then, a delighted gasp, "wait, when are we having a wedding?" Marksman is quiet, squinting his eyes slightly, "Oh. I was thinking later this month?" He sounds bashful, that shyness he only got around Solus, when he was embarrased about something he was worried the ghost could think of as a bad idea. "That sounds perfect ," Solus agrees, and watches those honey-gold eyes turn lemon-yellow with excitement. (And he decides that this is his going to be his second favorite memory for as long as he lived. And that the first would be their wedding day.)