#time:post engagement

[wvlfwife-blog]

lost and found,

their sunday morning vibes.

She woke up with a start-- a common occurrence as of late that left her feeling no less panic than she felt the first time dangerous words left her husband’s mouth. ( Her husband! She thought, the only light that could ever come out of perilously dark circumstances ). He whimpered and cried in his sleep, and she did not wait another second before engulfing him in her arms, splaying dainty fingers through his downy locks as she willed calmness and quiet back into his mind -- for him to be fully her’s again, for him not to be consumed by dangerous events that had such an intense hold on her nerves. But she wasn’t the soft, lilting angel she was when he first laid his hands on her at sixteen. Roseanne Park thought she is much stronger than that now, a strange coincidence that she always felt so in his company.

( perhaps he was destined to make her stronger, whilst she must stay so for his sake )

But with all the love in her heart, the strong will of her mind; she wants nothing more than to lay all of the strength she possessed just for the hope that it will all be okay. The he will be okay. That the demons that might consume him from the inside might be defeated by sheer will and might leave him happy, content, and whole -- her only wish.

Roseanne Park did not know how to not love Song Yixing with all her heart.

You’re here, she whispered, his name on her lips like a trusted prayer. You’re safe, love.

Perhaps it was the old look in his eyes, or maybe the secret smile that he held that made it all the more easier for her to continue on. In her small space, the miniscule breadth of the world that was her own -- she now shared with him, amidst piles of books and potted plants. Their love grew and bloomed like the roses he had grew in her name, the stanzas that she whispered beneath rumpled sheets. Affection and testaments of love and devotion did not fall behind, for it was behind every breath, every word; within the space between beating hearts.

It was that morning when she first referred to her husband as her husband did he answer with the most brilliant of smiles. His secret dimple not so much a secret anymore -- at least not to her -- for it became her’s as well, just as all of her became his, just how she would like to stretch the moment into the rest of eternity.

“Remember, you can’t say that in front of other people, sweetling. At least not until we tell your parents about the engagement.”

“Oh-- you mean when you tell them about our engagement?”

He stayed silent for a bit, a slight crease marring his otherwise beautifully smooth face. She had to resist the urge to run over and claim his lips -- she didn’t resist strong it enough it seems, for she had flitted over to do so before running back to make sure she didn’t burn her eggs. The small bliss was so welcomed amidst the stormy thoughts in her mind and the constant fear in her heart, the thought only caused her to grip the spatula a little tighter between pale fingers.

“You should go call.”

With a silent nod, her husband reached over for his phone and used clammy fingers to dial -- his eyes burning a little hole to the back of her head, nerves palpable in the easy Sunday morning air. She had to hold back a trail of laughter, pleased at least in the array of berating reproach that will undoubtedly be directed towards her lover; as if it’s the only ( playful ) revenge she could act upon after all the grief he had put her through.

“Marcus! Hello, good morning, how are you?”

She giggled at the obvious nerves that had cut through the peaceful air. Eyes focused on her bacon, but ears trained on the conversation happening behind her.

“Oh, just your way home from church, how marvellous.”

He cleared his throat then, and she had to remove the whistling kettle in order to hear him better.

“Well... I do hope I’m not being awfully untoward, or rather- I have to apologize for not approaching you first as per tradition-”

Rose sat herself cheerfully on the dinning table her feet dangling off the edge after she knocked a few books off of a well placed stack. A knowing smile stretching her lips.

“But I have asked your daughter to marry me, and she had said yes. I was wondering if it might be possible for us to have your blessing.”

A pause. His pupils trembled a little as they searched for her’s; a light suspension of breath in the room. She unconsciously leaned forwards in hopes of catching her father’s response.

There was a little whoop of glee, loud enough for even her to hear, accompanied by loud cheering and clapping in the background. Her mother, it seems, had been informed of the news.

“Oh! Well, thank you very much - I’d have to say that I’m very much relieved... And yes, we’re still coming for tea at five... I’m sure we have lots to talk about-”

A smug smirk, dark teasing eyes. She would’ve scoffed and slapped him on the shoulder if she didn’t find it so attractive. But with a little sigh of resignation, the now twenty-five year old blonde hopped off her dining room table and sauntered back to her cooking, only slightly disappointed at her father’s reaction to the prospect of losing his baby daughter to another man. She had to admit that she wished he had reacted somewhat stronger than he did.

The little pout slipped off her face as warm arms encircled her waist from behind, the familiar scent that was so fully him made her thoughts hazy with the frantic beating of her heart. After all these years. A low chuckle near her ear, the small kiss on her cheek, it’s difficult to hold on to annoyance when love became the reasoning to every breath.

“What? Did you expect him to hex me over the phone?”

“I thought he’d at least wonder if we were living in sin and you decided to put a baby in me before having our relationship acknowledged in front of God.”

“Darling, we were living in sin.”

She laughed a little, endlessly thankful that her parents weren’t aware of their current living situation. Her father would have an altogether different reaction if they knew, no matter how much they loved their future son-in-law.

“...Although he did mention something about ‘finally getting grandchildren’-- I don’t think he’s very happy with your sister at the moment.”

“They haven’t been for a while now. She keeps dating inexplicable men who all had the same commitment issues...”

“Well then aren’t you glad that you landed such a catch?”

Finally turning off the stove and putting her utensils down, Roseanne Park turned in her lover’s arms to place a deep kiss on his plush lips, standing in tiptoes to lean herself into his embrace. She kissed her with all the love she had, all the love she could muster -- all of her, displayed on a gilded platter for him to consume for the rest of time. Strong as she is ( all thanks to him ), she could not deny that her heart is still weak to his voice, those eyes, that secret smile ; she would not have it any other way.

“Of course I am. You’re all I ever need.”