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The sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden glow over the endless sea of tulips that stretched across the valley. Their vibrant reds, pinks, and yellows swayed gently in the breeze, a living tapestry beneath the rolling hills.
Gabriel Belmont, clad in his red leather armor, sat tall astride a sturdy black stallion named Night, his calloused hands steady on the reins. Behind him, Marie clung to his waist, her arms warm and familiar, her laughter soft as the wind carried it away.
"Gabriel, slow down!" Marie teased, her voice bright as she pressed her cheek against his back. "I swear you ride as if a horde of wargs is chasing us." He chuckled, a rare sound that rumbled deep in his chest, and glanced over his shoulder. Her auburn brown hair caught the sunlight, framing her face in a halo of warmth.
"Would you rather I let the horse dawdle? We’d be here until nightfall, and you know the tulips look best in the day." Marie swatted his shoulder playfully. "I’d rather we enjoy the moment. This field… it’s like something out of a dream. I don’t want to rush through it."
Gabriel’s expression softened. He pulled gently on the reins, slowing the stallion to a leisurely trot. The horse snorted, shaking its mane, as the couple moved through the field, the tulips brushing against their legs. The air was sweet with the flowers’ scent, mingling with the earthy aroma of the soil and the faint leather of Gabriel’s gear.
"You’re right," he admitted, his voice quieter now, almost reverent. "This place… it’s peaceful. Too peaceful, maybe." His eyes, ever sharp, scanned the horizon out of habit, searching for threats that weren’t there. Years of battling the creatures of the night had etched vigilance into his bones, even in moments like this. Marie squeezed his waist, grounding him, and looked into her light brown eyes.
"No shadows today, my love. No monsters. Just us." She leaned forward, resting her chin on his shoulder. "Tell me, what do you see when you look at these fields?".
He hesitated, the weight of her question settling over him. Gabriel wasn’t a man of flowery words; his life was one of steel and blood, of duty to the Brotherhood of Light. But for Marie, he tried. "I see… life. Colors so bright they hurt to look at. Like you." He paused, then added with a wry smile, "Though I’d wager the tulips are jealous of you."
She laughed, the sound like a bell in the quiet field. "Childish Flattery, Gabriel? I didn’t know you hadn't moved on."
She nudged him to keep going, and he obliged, guiding the horse along a winding path through the blooms. They rode in comfortable silence for a while, the only sounds the soft clop of hooves and the rustle of petals. Marie’s hands rested lightly on his sides, her touch a reminder of why he fought, why he endured.
The world beyond this field was dark, filled with horrors he’d sworn to vanquish, but here, with her, he could almost believe in peace.
"Gabriel," Marie said after a time, her voice thoughtful. "Do you ever think about leaving it all behind? The Brotherhood, the battles… just living, you and I, somewhere like this?".
His grip on the reins tightened, just for a moment. "Every day," he admitted, his voice low. "But the darkness doesn’t rest, Marie. If I stop, it spreads." He turned his head slightly, catching her gaze. "You know that."
She nodded, her eyes tracing the lines of his face, etched with both strength and weariness."I know. But I can dream, can’t I? Of a little house, maybe. A garden. You, without that haunted look in your blue eyes."
He didn’t answer right away, letting the words settle. The horse plodded on, the tulips parting before them like a sea. Finally, he said, "If I could give you that, I would. A thousand times over." Marie smiled, pressing a soft kiss to the back of his neck. "Then, for now, give me this. This ride, this moment. It’s enough."
Gabriel’s heart ached with the weight of her love, a light he carried into every battle. He urged the horse forward, the tulips stretching endlessly before them, and for that fleeting afternoon, the world was nothing but color, warmth, and the woman he’d fight heaven and hell to keep.
When they parted, he rested his forehead against hers, a rare smile tugging at his lips. "I brought something," he murmured, his voice low and warm. "A blanket, tucked in the saddlebag. Thought we could sit here a while, just you and me, with the tulips all around."
Marie’s eyes sparkled, her smile radiant. "You planned this? Oh, Gabriel, you’re full of surprises today."
He dismounted, offering her a hand as she slid down beside him. "Get used to it," he teased, retrieving the thick wool blanket from the saddlebag. He spread it over the grass, the tulips nodding at its edges, and pulled her down to sit beside him. The sun dipped lower, painting the field in hues of fire, and as Marie leaned against his shoulder, Gabriel felt, for the first time in years, that the darkness could wait.
Without a word, he leaned down and kissed her, his lips fierce with a passion that burned away the shadows in his soul. His hands cupped her face, deepening the kiss, a hungry edge to it as if he could pour all his longing, all his devotion, into this single moment. Marie responded in kind, her fingers tangling in his brown hair, pulling him closer.
As they parted, breathless, Gabriel’s hands moved to the laces of her white dress, his fingers deft despite their callouses. He tugged gently, the fabric slipping from her shoulders, revealing the soft curve of her skin beneath the fading sunlight. Marie’s eyes glinted with mischief as she leaned back, letting the dress fall away, leaving her bare against the warm air.
She arched a brow, a playful smirk on her lips. "Always me first, isn’t it, Gabriel? One of these days, I’ll have you shedding that armor before I lose a single thread."
He laughed, a low, rumbling sound, as he brushed a strand of hair from her face. "You make it too easy, love. Besides," he murmured, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, "I like the view." His eyes roamed over her, reverent yet hungry, before he kissed her again, softer this time, savoring the warmth of her skin.