𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖯𝗂𝖺𝗇𝗈 | 𝖬𝗂𝖼𝗁𝖺𝖾𝗅 𝖫𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖽𝗈𝗇

Chapter Nine

And even though these changes were significant, it felt like nothing had changed at all. His eyes were still the sharp, innocent blue that had bored into her own that day on the hot concrete, eyes she had dreamed about unwillingly. He still held a playfulness in his voice that made him seem childlike, and it could be flipped like a switch in a single second. He still held the bi-polar attitude that had once annoyed her immensely. Now, she found it rather entertaining.

He still wore the same rings, two on his left hand and one on the right, and she still found herself playing with him whenever their hands were locked together.

Michael and Ana had changed in many, many ways. Some, more bad than good, but they still remained the same people, even if tragedies had broken them down into lifeless ash. Their organs remained intact, their blood still pumped and air continued to run through their windpipes. Their minds were healing with every second spent together, fixing every dent and crack the separation had caused.

They were the same, body and mind still intact, and now that they were back together, they could finally have control over them.

It was funny, the amount of time they spent staring at each other, but it was something that neither would get tired of. And in some ways, it was like looking into a mirror, because they were both one now. Connected.

Michael gave a small sigh, eyes blinking tiredly as he studied her. He was always surprised with himself when he looked back on their relationship, thinking of how natural his actions came towards her. He was young then, just a boy, and an incredible nervous, at that. He had known nothing about relationships, and had been confused about the way he had been feeling towards her. But, obviously his infatuation with her was mutual, because here they were now.

Ana was extremely tired, not having gotten much sleep from her dream, but she wanted to stay up, remembering bits of her dream. Her knees brushed against his, her breathing matching his. And as she watched him, for a split second she could see a new emotion cross his face. Perplexed, maybe? But it was only for a millisecond, and he licked his lips with a tired blink.

"Marry me." He whispered, speaking the words softly with a light weight.

Ana's eyes narrowed, not deeply, but with slight confusion, and a tiny smirk crossed her lips. "What?"

Proposing to someone was typically filled with worry and anxiety, nerves and nail biting as they thought the worst. But, Michael didn't feel that. Ana was his everything, and he knew she felt the same way. He knew how much she loved him, and he felt no fear as the words left his lips. When he was nothing but a mere boy, he knew people got married to show love for one another, and he most certainly loved Anastasia.

"Marry me." He repeated, his hand going up to brush her cheek. "I want you to marry me."

He was a charmer, always had been and most definitely would continue to be. He was always able to surprise her with anything, and while his words had made her heart swell, she found it more comical than anything else. She gave a small laugh, her fingers going to his thigh.

"Michael, as much as I adore the idea, who exactly is going to marry us? You killed every priest on Earth." She chuckled, blinking tiredly and moving her face to lean against his chest.

Her laughter was understandable, and he cracked his own smirk as he tucked his head above hers, his fingers absentmindedly playing with the spring of her curls. "Well, even if I hadn't, I certainly wouldn't allow a priest to be anywhere near us."

"Then who would marry us, then?" She spoke against him. "Miriam?"

He laughed into her hair, shaking his head. "Definitely not. She wouldn't be able to control her tears. She loves you like a daughter too, you know." He peeked down at her.