"Angel," her husband's gentle voice drifts over the susurrus of the breeze stirring the wildflower meadow. "Look up."
In winter, the hazy golden hour bathes the wildflowers in a whimsical, kaleidoscopic glow as she tucks another crimson cornflower into the bouquet in her hands.
Then she looks up, and a quiet click sounds as he captures her with his camera.
"Beautiful..." he breathes, his softened gaze never leaving hers,
even as he lowers the camera.
Warmth blooms across her cheeks as she lifts the bouquet to hide her face, suddenly overcome by ripples of shyness.
"Now don't you hide from me," he says, poised with his camera again while a smile curves the corners of his lips.
Instead, she rises, fixing the long, lacy veil draped over her shoulders as a breeze stirs its whisper-thin fabric.
Yet the quiet click of the camera follows her every movement still.
"Rhett, that's enough," she says, stepping toward him as he retreats another step.
He keeps taking pictures of her until she finally reaches him and covers the camera lens with her palm.
"We've taken so many already," she says softly, lowering the camera.
He only smiles sheepishly before leaning in to kiss her.
"All right," he murmurs. "Let's go home."
A smile curls at her lips as she turns around, presenting him with her back.
"Will you take off my veil first?"
"Sure," he says, his fingers gently easing the pins from her hair while she scrolls through the countless photographs, marveling at the hidden gift he'd kept all this time.
"You're really good at this," she says. "Maybe you should become a professional photographer."
A chuckle slips from him. "I'm only good because you're my muse." He gently eases her hair away from the nape of her neck.
"And I could be good at so much more," he murmurs, his voice dropping as he brushes a kiss against her neck.
Goosebumps rise across her skin even as warmth blooms deep within her, his hands gliding gently along her bare arms.
"Are you cold?" he whispers.
She shakes her head, though the wind has grown sharper against her skin.
The thickening mist has begun to wash the golden light away as the day draws to its close...
the closing of their beautiful wedding day.
He drapes his suit jacket over her shoulders, then carefully folds her veil before placing it inside her handbag beside the camera.
She draws in the soft floral fragrance of the white roses nestled beside her wildflower bouquet within a white paper bag. What a miraculous place Ziriri is, for even in the heart of winter, nature continues to flourish.
She turns to meet his eyes, a smile lingering upon her lips. And gently,
he cups her face and kisses her once more.
As she pulls away, he leans in for another kiss, only for her to gently press a hand against his chest.
A soft laugh escapes her as a faint frown creases his brow. "We need to leave."
With a light tap to the tip of his nose, she turns and starts along the narrow path winding through the wildflowers, his warmth lingering close behind her.
Without warning, he sweeps her off her feet, and her arms instinctively wrap around his neck.
A boyish grin spreads across his lips, and all she can do is laugh,
melting into the arms of the man she now sings to the world as her husband.
"You know," she murmurs as he carries her toward the cottage they had called home for barely three days now. "I think I should keep a diary... with photographs, paintings,
and notes to hold all our memories."
"You should," he says gently.
With every step carrying them closer to home, the wilderness stretches untamed before them, while the frosty wind rustles through the trees overhead.
There, tucked among the trees and wildflowers,
the beautiful outline of their cottage appears faint and murky beneath the darkening sky.
Beyond, the hushed woods evokes something both fear and serenity within her. Back in Vernellia, though she had been a stranger to the city,
she had lived in an apartment where only a wall separated her from another company.
Here, their home stands farther from the rest of the neighborhood. Yet she isn't afraid, for she shares this little corner of Ziriri with
her husband... her husband, while her loving, Almighty Father watches over them.
So she has nothing to fear. Nothing to fear.
Something soft feathers against her cheek, and she looks up to find snow falling for the first time since they arrived in Ziriri.
"Are you feeling cold?" she whispers, gently caressing his cheek, the stubble he had cleanly shaved that morning already rough beneath her touch.
"You're keeping me warm," he says slyly.
"Then are you tired?" she asks again, concerned, but the tranquility resting upon his features tells her otherwise.
A mischievous smile curls across his lips as he carries her across the threshold of their front yard, the trees overhead deepening the gathering shade around them.
"Are you worried I won't last long tonight?" he murmurs,
a feverish warmth touching his voice.
"I don't know what you're talking about," she says, looking away as the realization of just how close she is to him warms every part of her being.
A chuckle escapes him as he gently lowers her to the ground, the freshly
mown grass soft beneath her low heels.
She steps forward, slips a hand into her handbag for the keys, and unlocks the door with a quiet click. No digital lock here.
"Welcome to our new home," he says as she pushes the door open and steps inside.
She chuckles, slipping off her heels before searching for the light switch, just as he steps in behind her,
the door closing with a quiet thud.
"It would've been nice if the cottage had a front porch," she says as the warm golden glow of the lights washes over the cozy living room.
The cottage is only half furnished for now. A kotatsu sits at the center of the room,
where she gently sets down her handbag beside the bouquet of flowers.
"We can always add one later."
His warmth settles at her back as he wraps his arms gently around her.
"Hmm..." A soft sigh escapes her as he buries his face in the crook of her neck.
"Congratulations on marrying me," he says out of nowhere.
A laugh slips from her. "Congratulations to you, too."
"I can't believe we're actually married," he says quietly.
"Me too," she whispers, slightly dazed.
"I'll never be alone now... right?" His voice is so fragile that it breaks her heart.
"No," she says softly. "Never... And you weren't alone before, either."
As his arms loosen around her, she turns to meet his tear-filled eyes. Rising onto her tiptoes, she gently presses her lips to his.
"I love you... my husband," she whispers.
He rests his forehead against hers, a wavering sigh escaping his lips.
"I love you, my wife," he says softly.
"I'm so... so happy right now. And I don't think I usually forget how to breathe."
Her own eyes burn with tears as he leans back,
a gentle smile softening his beautiful face.
And as he kisses her again, a quiet prayer of gratitude stirs through her soul. For through all the storms they had faced, apart and together, they linger here, stronger, braver, and softer, interthreading their lives together.
A feverish lightheadedness steals over her as he sweeps her off her feet, carrying
her toward the bedroom they now share.
Light from the living room spills into their otherwise darkened bedroom as he gently lowers her upon the soft pillows.
Her heartbeat quickens as his lips meet hers once more, fanning the flame already kindled within the wilderness of her soul.
But then she presses a hand against his chest, gently easing him back. "Can't we... take a bath first?" she whispers.
He takes her hand, lifting it to his lips and pressing a tender kiss to her knuckles. "I'm dying here," he murmurs.
She caresses his cheek, her heart softening. His eyes fall shut as he melts into her touch.
A smile curves at his lips as he meets her gaze. Slowly, he guides her up until she's sitting with him, her arms slipping around his neck as he draws her into another kiss.
Beneath the murmur of snow against the roof, she drifts into a musical haze of spring as his lips weave a poetry of love, devotion, and desire upon her bare skin.
Her gaze drifts away as he leans back, her cheeks burning. He curls a finger beneath her chin, gently lifting her face until her eyes meet his marmoris ones.
"You're so... so beautiful, my Angel," he murmurs.
With her cheeks ablaze, she hides her face in the crook of his neck, drawing a low laugh that reverberates through his chest.
"I love you," he whispers.
"I love you," she whispers back. He seals their confessions with another kiss before carefully lowering her onto the warm pillows.
Wrapped together beneath the duvet, its warmth seeps into the deepest corners of her soul.
She is home, loved, cherished, and safe, cradled within a garden in bloom, where heaven showers blessings upon the sacred consummation of their marriage.
Her fingers ink a silent prayer into the skin of his back as a vision of two married lovers, moving in a slow, sensual dance through blooming wildflowers, sweeps her between two half-parted worlds...
somewhere between here and forevermore.
The warmth of the bedsheets melts into a fevered dream of a blazing wildfire, its flames roaring as they consume them
in a symphony of pain and pleasure beneath this deepening winter night.
Whispered I love yous drift through the rhythm of their intertwined hearts as the fire settles into glowing embers, the world beyond swallowed by a velvet hush.