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The starry summer night was warm and magical as Ferdinand and Hubert walked hand in hand through Embarr. As they’d just finished a date at a popular restaurant recommended to them by Dorothea, they were both a little tipsy and Ferdinand giggled as his husband spoke about the terrible opera they’d seen earlier that night. He smiled to himself as he listened to the comforting sound of his deep voice, feeling almost like he were and that this was all a wonderful dream. Peace had been hard won and it still felt strange that they could finally enjoy little moments like this together. He cherished every detail of it—the red blush which filled Hubert’s normally pale cheeks, the faint scent of dark magic and wine that wafted off him in the light breeze, and the way a strand of dark hair kept falling into his face as he spoke. They were each a little keepsake he would carry close to his heart and fall asleep to tonight as he laid on Hubert’s chest.
After the strand of hair fell into his face again, Ferdinand reached up and brushed it behind his ear. Hubert stopped mid sentence and smiled gratefully. It was a shy thing, reserved only ever for him, and he felt lucky to be the one allowed to see it. Even after a year of marriage he still couldn't believe how giddy and nervous one look from the mage made him feel.
Unable to help himself, he leaned forward and pressed a gentle, uncoordinated kiss to his husband’s lips. Hubert hummed as his hand rose to his cheek and rubbed at the sunkissed skin with the pad of his thumb. If this were a dream then Ferdinand hoped it would never cease.
When they eventually pulled away Hubert raised a teasing brow at him. “What was that for?”
“I couldn't help myself,” he chuckled and gave his hand a light squeeze. He pressed their lips together once more before giving him another against his nose. “I love you,” he repeated, because he could, because he wanted his husband to know.
“I love you too, sunlight.” With another kiss their previous conversation was lost to them, traded instead for fingers through wavy black tendrils and the taste of wine-soaked lips beneath the glimmer of dim starlight.