Dalaric

Forty: "𝙎𝙝𝙚'𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢."

"Is it done?"

"Yes. I've done everything you asked, sir. Should I massage your feet too? Or is that for later?" I breathe a sigh of relief, praying that everything goes according to plan. I've spent a long fucking time dreaming about this.

About her.

"I owe you one. Big time. Thanks, Ale." I thank him like I should, instead of calling him weird for talking about feet.

Only Mayella can do that. She does have cute toes. They move weird. She moves weird. And I love that.

"Aight, aight. Don't get all sappy on me. Hope everything goes well." After thanking him once again, I hang up right before the bunny hops out of the washroom, looking delicious as fuck.

She's wearing a long, white dress that exposes her arms and her collarbone. Her hair's open in those spiral wave things and she's got the ring on too.

That'll be replaced soon enough.

I help her put a little makeup on when she pouts. I don't like that make up shit. Not one fucking bit.

And that's only because she spends too much damn time taking it off. Therefore, I'm left waiting on the damn bed- angry and irritated that she isn't in my arms and that I can't fall asleep.

That shit also irritates her skin sometimes and then she has the nerve to complain about those tiny little bumps. My girl looks fucking pretty either way.

But whatever she wants. Soon after I spoil her as I should, we're in the car on the way to a place I thought I could only dream of. Once we reach, I grab both her hands and startle her.

"What's wrong? Do you feel cold-here, I got mittens. They look like Mr. Jones Junior." Mayella tries to take away her hand to get them but I pull her back.

"Handcream." She makes a knowing face when I ask for it, before handing the strawberry-scented cream to me.

Her brows furrow as I open the lid and take some of it out, putting it on her hand and rubbing it in.

Mayella lets out a dramatic sigh of relief and I mentally call myself an idiot for barely massaging her hands like she does mine. Idiot Ricky.

A soft blush makes its way onto her face and I get an urge to kiss it so I do, so satisfied at how I can do this every day.

"Can you do this hand tooo? Please." My girl flutters her lashes at me and I take her left hand, thanking God for when she shuts her eyes close.

Doing what I planned to do, I put her now strawberry-scented hands back into her lap so I can get out of the car.

"Is this it?" She asks.

This is it. I nod, standing back to look at the newly built building. It's not completely furnished yet but it's coming along. I hear a small sniffle and I turn to find Mayella trying to bury her face in my arm, crying,

"Hey, hey...what's wrong? Mayella-"

"Nothin-Nothing. It-It's j-just...our dream...it's coming true and I-I'm so happy."

This. This was I love so much about her.

'Our.'

Sure, we're really fucking compatible. But compatibility can't get you through the shit life will hurl at you. It's something I never realised until I met her, but what really matters is the amount of effort from both sides.

Every day, every fucking day, she tries for me. She turns my dreams into hers too, she smiles at me like I'm worth every bit of her, she does the smallest of things- even if it's a cup of tea in a damn penguin cup.