"I thought I said not to cause any trouble, my dear." George chimes, playing with something in his vest pocket for a moment and I bite the inside of my cheek.
"Your majesty, just because we made it to England doesn't mean I'm giving up." My gaze fal...
My hand digs into my vest pocket, pulling out the small, golden pocket watch before holding it up for my gaze to study. It dangles, swaying gently in a sloppy impression of a circle.
I was going to give it back to (Y/n) eventually, but for the time being, I was holding onto the small trinket, keeping it close so even when she wasn't with me I still had something that reminded me of her - and in the small chance, maybe it could help persuade her decision to stay.
Stay...
The word stood out in my mind for many reasons that held more underline attachment. As soon as we were tied together in marriage I would be less uneasy - but caution was still needed. I wouldn't lose my love's breathtaking smile, the kindness that always seemingly laced her eyes with care, the feeling of her small and delicate hand held by my own, or the soft red that would dust her cheeks whenever she was flustered - her gaze always finding someplace else to draw attention to in her attempt to hide it from me. I wouldn't lose the many small things about her.
I sigh almost happily, turning away from the desk while placing the small watch back within my pocket.
In eight months she would finally be completely mine, my breathtaking bride and then my wife. My life partner.
I just needed to remain patient, just a little longer.
Though my rose was making it a hard thing to put up with - and she had yet to even realize it. The way her (e/c) eyes would sparkle, swirling with her emotions. The way her (h/c) hair would sway and dance with the little movements and gestures she'd make with her hands when she talked, and every other little thing she did that made my heart race.
If only there was a way to make eight months go by a little faster, a way to push passed time whilst still enjoying those small moments.
My mind falls blank, my gaze lifting to stare at the glimmering window panes across the spacious room - a sly smile tempting the corners of my lips with an idea I found a new fondness towards.
Many problems seemed to click back into place, and in that time, I knew exactly what her punishments would be.
° ° °
~~~ September 23, 1777 ~~~ ((Y/n) pov)
° °
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(This is what you're wearing.)
I stop a little ways before the doors to the throne room - as if intimidated by the grand, darker hues of the wood or the soldiers posted in front of them - and in a way, I suppose I was to some extent.
"May I ask you something?" My quiet tone cuts off the male who was just about to speak up - Sean's gaze having already found my profile.
