Darling & Commander

The General: 31

Brock Cortes POV:

"Commander? Are you home?"

"In the kitchen, darling." I call to Galla.

She enters, hair piled in a messy bun atop her head with a soft sweater I got her the other week. It has flowers embroidered to the sleeves, and she looks utterly endearing in this lain back outfit.

"How was job searching, darling? I recall you being inclined to find one soon, but do not feel-"

"I did it! I have an occupation!" She cuts me off, squealing.

"Is this a jest?! Oh, just marvelous!" I spin around from the stove and seize her in a hug. "I did not doubt for a moment you could do it."

I am so incredibly proud. Wonderfully, astoundedly, astonishedly proud. I did not doubt for one moment that she would succeed, and it only makes my heart swell harder. A man has no need to support his woman anywhere besides in a household; she can hold her own just as well. Proven by this exact situation, men may also need to lean on women every once in a while, and I think it is just splendidly marvelous how my nymph is paving a way for herself.

Myself, on the other hand... not too much. I already made a name, and I stand at twenty three years old with people cowering at the sound of it. I have no need to make another, although I probably will eventually, so I intend on taking a rest from working for now.

I lift her to the counter and kiss her, but she giggles into my mouth and pulls away.

"Did you prepare dinner?" She blinks.

"Of course." I nod, raising a brow. "What, did you think I was incapable of cooking?"

"Clearly not, I just- well, maybe a tad..." Galla blushes. "I truly just never saw you-"

"Cook?" I laugh as she blushes harder. "Perhaps I should have displayed my skills ahead of time."

In truth, I always had to plan meals beforehand for my army, and figure out what foods possess the best nutrients, as well as delivering recipes to the cooks, so I am quite well versed in the directions of it. In the actual process, I am still a student, but with time I may learn to be a further intermediate cook.

"Perhaps indeed..." She agrees, pulling bobby pins from her hair to let it cascade down.

"Gods, I love this hair..." I murmur, tugging it a little. "So absolutely tantalizing, as I believe I once stated..."

"It is truly nothing special..." But I can tell she appreciates the compliment.

"How?" I ponder to myself. "How did I end up so incredibly lucky with you? There must be a reason, my darling, because you are undoubtedly the finest woman- no, person I have ever laid eyes upon. Without question."

"Please... stop..." She reddens harder, face dropping to the crook of my neck in embarrassment. "You have already spoiled me with your kind words enough..."

"And I shall continue to do so for the rest of our lives." I grin, lifting her face so I can pull apart the pouty lips with my teeth for a kiss.

She sighs into me, clinging her thighs around my waist and her arms around my neck. All of my thoughts waver when she inches off of the counter still grasping me, leaning forward to murmur in my ear.

"I need a shower, commander..." Galla bites the shell of my ear. "Do you think you can handle that?"

"Oh, lords..."

⚔️⚔️⚔️

"Refreshed?" I finish drying her hair, planting a final kiss to her bare shoulder as I step away.

"Indeed." Galla nods, beaming at me when she turns. "I am tuckered out, shall we turn in for the evening?"

"Right." I agree, lifting her from the little stool in our bathroom. "So, what is the occupation you have obtained?"

"I am working at a small floral shop!" She says as I tuck her into the covers of the bed in the room over. "Oh, Brock, it is just wonderful. The owner herself invited me to lunch another day so we may discuss botany of sorts, and it has just been so long since I have had a friend."

I pretend to look offended as I slide under the comforter beside her, and she titters.

"Oh, hush, you." She backhands me with a wink. "You understand what I mean."

"Yes. And I am very happy that you have managed to obscure a job that you have a passion for. That is lovely." I pull her close to me, murmuring in her ear as I kiss it softly. "My girl..."

Galla freezes, physically and, if I had to guess, mentally. Confused, I coil a strand of her hair around my finger as I hug her.

"Whatever troubles you, darling?" I tilt her chin up to look at me.

"I- you... you said my girl..." She reddens, unmeeting of my eye.

"I suppose we have not discussed terms..." I chuckle. "Is that what you are pausing about?"

"Do not jest of me!" She smacks my chest, and I pout at her.

"I am not making a jest of you." I shake my head, brunette locks tousling. "It is beautiful. I love this shade of red I discover across your face when I call you that. Will you do it every time?"

The woman does not respond as I lean in to kiss each of her freckles daintily.

"My girl..." I move to nibble on her neck as she shudders, trembling beneath the heat of my lips.

"Br-"

"Mine..." I growl, possessive and petty, but utterly and desperately in love. "All, all mine..."

"Oh, Brock, I am yours..." Galla whimpers, plush lips wavering as I kiss them silly. "So, wholly, completely yours, it could not be a jest-"

In one moment, this reign snaps. I have some sort of leash when it comes to this woman; a certain set of words from her mouth and everything else drowns out. My need, my affection, my love for her is too strong that I fear one day it will drive me mad.

"Commander, I love you..."

A certain set of words.