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Life without a tadpole squirming in your head is so nice. You don’t have to battle with corrupted thoughts, you can take each day at a time without worry that the next could be your last, and you get to enjoy moments you’d likely never have had if it weren’t for your boyfriend.
It’s still so new to be able to call him that—Rolan your boyfriend—but you love it. You love him. Even when he’s being a grump and working himself too hard so even a kiss on the cheek is impossible, you cherish these days together.
Any excuse you have to be around him, you’re taking. If you’re walking anywhere together, you’re holding his hand. If you’re chatting with each other, you’re as close as possible. At first, he raised a brow and questioned what you were doing, but when you told him you loved spending time with him, you swear you saw the tiefling melt.
Now, he’s the one to take your hand when you’re walking somewhere, and he’s the one to pat his lap or open his arms for you to keep close to him. Cal and Lia, of course, have made an effort to tease you both about it whenever they catch you acting like lovesick idiots, but you’re quite proud to be one—and if Rolan seems annoyed, you kiss him to take his mind off it.
Another good thing about your new life is that danger is scarce these days. You haven’t brandished a weapon in weeks (if you have, it’s to help out Dammon) nor have you had to hit the road in order to help someone. Life is rather calm now, which you find is hard to get used to but is well worth the effort.
You don’t have to fret over Rolan as much, either. With his siblings safe and his vocation secured, he’s not doing anything rash like running head-first into the shadows or suffering under an oppressor’s hand. You’re no longer a hero, but you like it.
Besides, you think Rolan’s your hero. After a while of dating, you started picking up on all the things he does to relieve you. When it was extra cold and you headed outside in just your coat, Rolan wrapped a scarf around you. Whenever you bent over if you dropped something on the floor, Rolan would cover the edge of the table with his hand so that you wouldn’t bump your head. And the items you’d always have to stretch for were moved to the middle shelf so you could reach them.
Even in little acts, Rolan is saving you. His small gestures are anything but that in your eyes—they’re heroic. He’s your knight in shining armor, your perfect prince, and the main reason why you smile so often. Being with Rolan has saved your life far greater than being freed from your neurological curse, and you wouldn’t trade that for the world.
Nothing beats the way his eyes light up when he sees you. Like now when you walk into the room and find him sitting on the couch with a book in his hand. Rolan meets your gaze, sees the exhaustion in your shoulders, and pats his lap.
You practically waddle over to him, laying on the couch with your head in his lap, and smile up at his stupidly beautiful face.
“Long day?” he asks, brushing your cheek.
“Just tired,” you reply, closing your eyes when he gently scratches at your scalp and makes you purr like a cat. “But it’s better now that I’m with you.”
When you open your eyes, you meet the smile Rolan shines down on you. He does that more often now. At the start, he’d hide all the ways you’d make him feel warm inside, but as the two of you have learned peace together, he makes sure you always know when he’s happy. The hand-holding and the kisses and the hugs—he no longer shies from them.
“Shall I read to you, my love?” Rolan hums, and you hum in return.
He holds the book with one hand, keeping his other still gently caressing your face. Days like these are always so special to you. There’s no deadlines, no cries for help, no battle to be fought. It’s just you and Rolan in domestic bliss.
You’ll never tire of his voice. It’s soothing as it is warm. Sometimes you don’t even pay attention to what he’s reading (or know what he’s reading about in the first place), but that doesn’t matter to you. Simply the act of relaxing to his tender words is like a balm on your soul.
Cradled in his arms like this, you stare up at him as he reads. That pointed nose, those striking eyes, and those bewitching lips. They could bury you alive, he’s so damn beautiful, but it doesn’t feel like a grave at all, it’s like being planted in rich soil you know will last and that he’ll nurture you each day you grow. Old age was never something you gave much thought towards, but it’s something you’re eager to experience with him.
The love you have for him makes you feel whole. You gently take his hand from your face to brush and examine his fingers, cherishing every little detail of him that you can, and then you press soft kisses to each fingertip, which has him chuckling.
“You never pay attention, do you?” he smiles.
“It’s not my fault you’re so distracting,” you say.
The compliment makes his cheeks turn a shade darker, and he pulls his hand away from yours to gently pinch your cheek.
“How you flatter me,” he says. “How did I get so lucky?”
“I ask myself that same question,” you say.
“Yet it’s I who has wooed the city’s hero.”
“You’re my hero too, you know?”
Rolan’s brows crease like he both doesn’t believe your words and that his appreciation of them could knock him over, so you let him know the full truth.
“You make me feel so cherished,” you tell him. “I’m constantly reminded of how perfect my life is with you because you take care of me and love me. Even when you don’t think I notice, I do. You’re my whole world, Rolan. You save me every day without even knowing it.”
“My love—” Rolan murmurs, his voice heavy with affection as he leans down to kiss you tenderly and lets his lips linger against yours. “I love you more.”
“Don’t start with me,” you chuckle, poking his cheek.
He smiles, nuzzling his nose against yours. “Let’s start now because I don’t ever want to stop.”
You coo under his endearment, cupping his face in your hand. He leans into your touch, sighing softly like he’s never experienced anything so blissful. When he focuses back on you, his irises flare with devotion.
“I intended to ask you in a more responsible manner, but I can no longer wait,” he says, and your heart skips a beat. “My darling, will you marry me?”
The earnest question has you propping yourself forward, bumping heads with him, and giggling over an apology that feels rushed because you have something more important to say to him right now.
“Yes.” you beam. “Of course, yes!”
Rolan’s expression lights up and he’s swaddling you in his arms, practically tackling you into the couch with laughter that bubbles from him freely. He buries his face in your neck, holding you as if to anchor your response to him before you can do something ridiculous like change your mind.
You won’t, though. You realise in this moment that the new life you were always desperate for wasn’t simply a life of tranquility, it was a life with Rolan—your husband.