Chapter Text
The first time Sebastian got his heart broken was at the beginning of their seventh year.
He had spent the last few weeks counting the days until her birthday. It was still months away, but that did not stop his heart from leaping with excitement at the prospect of her turning seventeen. Of her freedom.
And she was too perfect not to be free.
He had come to that conclusion that summer when he had invited her to stay in Feldcroft.
Of course, it was Anne who had to meet with her father to make sure no injudicious business was going on. It seemed the Sallow twin had enough of a silver tongue to convince an entire aristocratic Muggle family to let her daughter stay in their house. Adequate parlance, he recalled.
Sebastian had spent that week basking in the presence of the object of his affection in his very home. He made sure she did not have to lift a finger while he hosted her at his place, but as usual, she got her way most of the time,and was constantly out and about doing something to help around.
Most of the time, however, she stayed with Anne.
She had made Anne a simple perfume as well, using flowers from the meadow around the farm, not to mention the wide range of essential oils the brunette had bought from Aromatica in the weeks prior to the girl's visit.
The house never smelled better.
Sebastian would walk in after a day of helping around and studying new spells to find the two girls engrossed in an activity here and there.
She taught Anne Muggle embroidery. She had sewn her a small handkerchief. She had braided her hair with flowers.
It was not difficult for him to imagine a whole life that way.
That week was his personal idyll, and he wanted to believe it his near future as well.
When she left, he had to spend some time getting used to her absence, and that was nothing short of agonising, especially throwing his twin's teasing into the mix, but one thing gave him more hope than anything else: the fact that, perhaps, he might not have to get used to her absence in his home.
When he returned to Hogwarts for his seventh year, he made sure to spend every appropriate moment with her. They studied together, he let her play with his hair, they duelled — and she won, again and again, as she always did — and talked. They talked. A lot. But not as much as he imagined. Because Sebastian Sallow was always imagining lately.
Every time he looked at her, he imagined.
He imagined a ring of white gold on her finger, engraved with their initials. He imagined her telling him that yes, she wanted to marry him, her neck adorned with those embroidered white frills that weren't seen contrasting lilac that time. He imagined her in his arms, telling him with her beautiful, radiant smile that she loved him. He imagined and imagined until his brain was too small to fit any further, and he didn't want it to be just a fantasy anymore.
But with it came the nightmares, seeping through the empty spaces of bliss in his mind, plaguing most of his nights, when he felt his heart tearing in his chest.
That night was one such.
Sebastian had spent it tossing and turning and breaking out in a cold sweat as he saw her being ripped away from him. As he saw her say yes to another, albeit behind empty eyes and hollow words. As he saw the complacent smiles of her parents as she brought even more wealth into the family.
“No!” He awoke with a jolt for what seemed to be the hundredth time that month and looked around desperately, as if asserting that, once again, it was only a nightmare. That she was still there. That she could still be his.
Ominis was awake already, and looking in his direction with the same concerned expression he grew accustomed to lately.
“I’m okay. Just a nightmare.” Sebastian quickly got ready, not bothering to do his tie properly or wear his perfume. And that, he never forgot.
When he reached the Great Hall, he couldn’t help but search for her in the crowd of students. He needed to see that she was still with them. Still safe.
“Sebastian.”
He turned around with a jolt and she jumped slightly in surprise.
“Are you alright?” She asked, examining his exhausted face.
“Of… Of course.” He replied, rather unconvincingly, but he hoped she wouldn't ask any more questions. The last thing he wanted was to worry her any further. So he diverted the conversation. “How about you?”
She shrugged, holding up a piece of neatly folded parchment. “Post.” She simply said. “I’ll read it later.”
He nodded, his lips dry and an uneasy feeling in his chest. Post this early?
“I’ll see you later, all right? I’m starving.” She waved and turned in the direction of her table.
“Wait, who… Is it from Anne?” He stopped her, holding onto a glimmer of hope. Maybe he was reading too much into it and it was only his twin reaching out to greet her and ask her if she would spend Christmas with them in Feldcroft. His sister could do with some more company after all.
“My father, actually.” She turned the letter in her hands.
He swallowed thickly, that glimmer going out as soon as it ignited. He forced the words out. “You— You don’t think it’s about… that, right?” He asked in a feeble voice, choking on his words.
She narrowed her eyes a bit, just as she did the first time they met. “Is that why you look so… dishevelled today?” She tilted her head. “I don’t want to worry you, Sebastian. Promise me you won’t think about it anymore.”
He faltered, and it took a while for his neck to move in what biasedly resembled a nod, for which he appeared totally unconvincing. She sighed deeply and averted her eyes before walking away.
Sebastian's gaze followed her figure and his breath quickened. For some reason, he was panicking, more than usual.
“Why is your breathing ragged? Is it because of the nightmare?” Ominis asked, furrowing his brows.
“Yes… Probably.” He replied, not taking his eyes off the girl.
He tried not to let his mind wander too much, taking a deep breath and following Ominis to the table — not that he was hungry anymore. In fact, the mere sight of food made the pit of his stomach close painfully.
Sebastian spent a few minutes staring at his eggs, before he ran his hands through his hair desperately. His eyes searched for her at her House table, then in the crowd of students leaving and entering the Great Hall, but her figure had vanished before his eyes in a heartbeat. His face fell.
"She... She's not there anymore." He whispered to Ominis. "What if this... ruins my chances? What if I broke her trust? What if, now that she knows I'm worried sick, she won't ever want to see me again to spare me?"
Ominis' breath caught in his throat at Sebastian's words, but he forced himself to calm down, to give Sebastian a pillar to lay on as his mind already braced itself for the worst.
"I'm sure... I'm sure that if you explain yourself, she'll understand." He tried to comfort his friend.
Sebastian didn't say anything and instead stood up abruptly to go find her. He needed to find her. There had to be a solution, anything he could do for her while also not showing that her condition made him suffer. He didn't want to lose her, neither her friendship nor her future to some aristocrat. He wanted to court her, to be with her, to openly love her.
After about half an hour of searching — with the help of various ghosts, students and the infamous Revelio Spell — Sebastian found her alone, reading at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, seemingly oblivious to her surroundings. She seemed to have found some small nook hidden from view that no other students seemed to know about. Sebastian would go as far as saying she had made it herself.
He stopped at the entrance of it and leaned against the compact dirt and rocks on the side, staring at her thoughtfully for a while.
Just the sight of her made him feel better.
A slight smile spread across his face as he watched her hold her book carefully. No one could have the heart to hurt her, he thought. How could anyone possibly do such a thing?
Sebastian studied her for a while, not wishing to make any sudden moves and scare her. After a few minutes, though, he stepped forward, walking slowly, silently, until he was no more than a few steps from her, and finally spoke.
"Hello," he said quietly, a small smile on his face as he took a seat next to her. She looked at him, a bit startled, but did not try to move away from him like he feared she would.
"Sorry about this morning," he looked at her apologetically, his tone holding a hint of awkwardness. "Can we... talk, for a minute or two?"
"How did you find me? This place is pretty hidden..."
"How did I find you?" He said, a slight chuckle escaping his lips. "You know me. I know every hidden place in this school and around. Being sneaky is part of my genetic makeup."
The thought was intended as humour, but she didn't smile at his joke, and he realised his attempt fell flat. His smirk disappeared, replaced with an apologetic small smile.
"But you are right. You are not that easy to find..." He let out a breath, looking out over the Forbidden Forest. She didn't answer.
"So, I have to ask..." He whispered, his voice soft, his body tense like a chord as he tried to diffuse the awkwardness. "What are you reading? Something good?"
She looked down to her book as if reading the title for the first time. "Little Women... It's a muggle book"
"Hm. And what's it about?" he asked, his head cocked to the side curiously.
"It talks about four sisters growing up and struggling with their place in society as women." She sighed. "Quite fitting..."
"Ah…" He nodded thoughtfully, feeling the familiar anxiety rising once again at her words. "Would you say it's a good read? Are you enjoying it?"
She handed him the book musingly. "I've read it more than once, you can read it if you want."
Sebastian took it, hesitantly, and ran his hand over the well-worn pages as he looked down at it. It was clear the book must have been quite old. He slowly opened it, examining the faded print on the edge of the cover, feeling the old paper beneath his fingers. When he read, he always did so with care, turning pages one at a time, as if he feared they would tear his hands. He began to read, the gentle rustling of the pages quickly mingling with the light rustling of the leaves in the breeze. It was a pleasing and comforting sound.
She stayed quiet, staring blankly at the ground as he silently read. Her mind felt empty, and it was like her whole body was melting. She wasn't all there, that much was clear. It was like her usual self was trapped somewhere far deep in her brain with no way out. Sebastian immediately noticed the way she seemed to almost ‘fade’ as he read next to her, and a familiar sense of concern rose up in him. He wanted to reach out to her, to do something to take every pain away from her, to take her in his arms or hold her hand. However, he forced himself to resist: he would wait, for now, for her to speak, if and when she wished to.
He finished the chapter, closing the book carefully and returning it to her with a small smile. "I have to say, that's very well written. I was completely hooked."
She nodded. "You can borrow it, if you wish..."
Her voice was monotone, with no emotions in it. It lacked the usual cadence and musicality, her usual modulation. It sounded empty, and it hurt him to hear her like this — it scared him, in a sense. Something wasn't right, that was clear.
He wanted to say something, to help, but he didn't know what the problem was, and thus he didn't know what to do. And so he stayed quiet, deciding to go a different route. His voice lightened a little, trying to sound more cheerful: maybe that would make it better?
"How many books do you have? I'd certainly be willing to lend you some… or… or I could borrow some as well, if you’ll have me."
"I have plenty." She whispered. Her eyes shifted around aimlessly as she played with her bracelet, seemingly grounding herself to reality, to the conversation, to his presence.
"You have plenty?" He repeated, a small, reassuring smile dancing on his lips. "Well, you did mention you were quite the avid reader. You are my best friend after all, aren't you? And there aren't many things that I enjoy more than reading... and good company, of course." He paused for a second, his eyes flickered towards the girl, and then away. "Which do you like more? The reading or the company?”
But at that point, Sebastian was basically talking to himself. She had stopped playing with the bracelet, losing her hold on reality in the meantime. She was trapped in her mind, far away. And she didn't answer.
He looked over at her lack of response and a chill washed over him as he looked at her. What is happening? He thought, panic rising in his chest, his heart beating fast. He stayed frozen in his place for long, painful seconds, his mind racing, before he reached out slowly, taking her hand in his.
"Okay, talk to me." he whispered. "Tell me what’s wrong."
She didn't move, nor registered the feeling of his hand in hers, but she heard herself speak, like it came from far away. "You're not wearing the cologne," she said slowly. "The one I brewed for you."
The sound of her voice, so soft and hollow, was heart-wrenching. When she spoke, it was as if a cold hand had gripped his heart, clutching it tightly. And the emptiness of her voice nearly undid him entirely.
He let out a small laugh: sad and hysterical, like the voice of a man whose life was crumbling apart. He felt as if her pain was his pain, and he just wanted to make her feel better.
"No," he said quietly, "not today."
But as he saw her sombre expression, his heart sank even more, and he felt the need to quickly add: "I still have it. It's my most prized possession… I've just forgotten this morning because… Well, I was in a rush, sort of. Forgive me."
She only nodded, her eyes casting downwards. She felt so tired, like her body was on edge and too calm at the same time. Like part of her wanted to jump out of her skin and leave. Leave that place. Leave everything behind.
"Can I ask?" He asked quietly, reaching out to touch her cheek lightly and turn her head towards him. "What... happened? What has come over you? You weren't like this an hour ago."
He looked directly into her eyes, trying to see beyond the nothingness of her gaze towards her true feelings, the feelings she was trying so hard to keep buried, but her vacant eyes broke his heart. "It's scaring me. Please..."
She blinked a few times, thinking, before she slowly reached into her bag and took the letter she had received that morning, handing it to him. The letter was wrinkled and there were a few dried tears smudging the paper.
"I'm officially off the market." She said emptily.
A sudden wave of realisation hit him, stopping his heart on the spot as he took the letter with shaky hands. A horrified look spread across his face. No. Please no.
"Wh-What?" He whispered, trying to control his voice, so that he wouldn’t break into a sob right there and then. It was like one of his nightmares. One of those bad dreams that kept him up since the start of the school year. It couldn't be real. It couldn't be happening. It had to be just another delusion.
"Your father... your father…" He took a deep, strained breath. "Why?"
"I'm his only daughter," she said blankly. "I knew it would happen sooner or later. I just wish I could have found a solution before it did." She looked at him, her eyes still unfocused. "I'm sorry, Sebastian. It seems like I won't have the choice to love you after all."
Those words cut directly through his chest. The shock of those words, the sudden burst of panic as he saw his greatest torment take shape right before his eyes: it felt like he had been punched directly in the heart, like someone had reached through his flesh and snatched the throbbing muscle fresh out of him.
"No," he whispered, a sob escaping him without his control. "Please... please..."
He grabbed her, unable to hold back for another second, and pulled her into a tight hug, holding her close as he felt his heart break, its sharp pieces sticking in his lungs with each tear.
"You can't mean that." He sobbed, his voice breaking. "You can't."
She rested her head on his shoulder, as he cried. Slowly, she hugged him back. She had already shed all her tears, so the only thing she could do was let him do the same.
"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I really liked you… I need you to know that."
He wanted to be strong. He wanted to be there for her, to comfort her, to be the shoulder she could cry on. But in the end, the hopelessness he had been feeling every night became more real to him, and her body was warm against his.
And he broke.
His body trembled as he kept her close, wishing that, maybe, if he held her close enough she would be safe forever.
He cried for a while, his face buried against her shoulder, his body wrecked by sobs. And with each of them, the pieces of his heart ripped at his dreams, the white gold decaying before his very eyes, and her arms wrapped softly around him only compounded the pain he felt.
"You can't…" He whispered in her neck, almost deliriously. "You can't leave me."
When he finally stopped crying, he looked down at her. She didn't look like the girl he knew. The usual light in her face had gone, replaced with pure hollowness, and his heart broke all over again. "It's... it's alright," he whispered earnestly, wiping his tears. "I— I understand."
She nodded, cupping his cheek in her hand and wiping his tears. "Keep that book for me, okay?" She whispered, resigned. "I think... soon enough… I'll be made to leave Hogwarts, too, and… and perhaps the country as well."
He closed his eyes, the last remaining drops falling from his eyes and onto her palm. Leave Hogwarts. Leave the life she had known all these years.
Leave him.
The thought of not seeing her at all ever again made his stomach twist excruciatingly.
"Of course," he said earnestly, his voice soft and gentle in the silence that followed. He kissed her forehead, like it was the most precious thing he had ever known and rested his own on that same spot right after.
"I'll look after it. I promise." He smiled sadly, looking at her. "I'll keep it safe with me, alright? In my room. And if you..." He was unable to finish the sentence, the thought of her leaving too much to bear. Another small sob made its way past his lips and he felt his eyes well up again. "If you ever need anything... you know you can come to me, right? No matter where you are, you can still come to me…"
She nodded and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. "Tell Ominis I forgive him, okay? It doesn't do well to hold grudges. And..." She paused. "Sebastian... promise me you'll wear that cologne."
Her proximity, her nearness to him, caused a fluttering feeling in his chest, like at least two of the thousand pieces of his heart found their way to each other again.
"Of course. I..." He said, his voice cracking. "Don't... don't be silly..." He tightened his arms around her in a hug, tears rising in his eyes once again. "I'll wear the cologne, alright? For you. I promise."
"Good. I worked an awful lot to make it for you." She let out a soft chuckle. "Thank you for inviting me to your house this summer. I really wished it could have been you... if anything."
There was a constant, painful weight in his chest, and a burning feeling in his throat, a lump so big it seemed to reach his lungs, too. He tried to swallow that pain back down, not wanting to burden her with his own feelings anymore, and let out a heavy sigh. "I wish it could have been me too."
The words had only just left his mouth when his breath caught in his chest. He hadn't meant to say that. Not like this. "I— I mean..."
"I know." She smiled, taking a big breath. "If we were older, maybe… I could've stayed here… away from those traditions, away from… a man I don't love."
There was a stab in his heart again as he rested his chin on her shoulder, and suddenly nothing mattered to him anymore. Nor her father, nor the Muggle world, nor the very concept of society. All that mattered was her, and the ring he was going to buy for her one day. "I won't let you do that," he said resolutely. "I don't care about your stupid traditions. I won't let you go."
"Sebastian. I… I'm still sixteen. I don't have a choice."
"Then I'll make one for you. You said it yourself: steal that ride, remember?" He said, caressing her cheek. "If a path is already paved, you should use it. I'll pave that path for you. I'll give you the life you deserve. I'm— I'm— I'll find a way."
And he swore he saw the gears in her brain turning behind her beautiful eyes. "If by any chance I don't leave Hogwarts…" she bit her lip. "I'll have to begin my courtship now, yes, but by tradition, I can't be wedded until I'm at least twenty-one."
A glimmer of hope made its way through the cracks of his nightmare. If she could delay her marriage, they could still get away. Make a life in this world. Be free.
"Maybe I can ask Ominis to talk Professor Black into it. You know their families share ties," he said.
"I'm a Muggle-born. Neither the Gaunts nor Headmaster Black would care, I— I'm not important to them."
"That doesn't matter." He interjected, both his hands now on her cheeks. "You're important to me. You're so much more than blood or… or tradition. I don't care if your whole family hates me, I don't care if the whole muggle world hates me. I'll find a way. I'll do anything to make you happy."
Her eyes widened in wonder. "For… For me? You can't do that, Sebastian, you—"
"I can and I will." He said, raising his voice slightly. "I'll do whatever must be done. I will protect you. I will find a way to keep you here. I refuse to let them take you away from me."
She leaned into his touch and closed her eyes. Finally, she started to cry as she covered his hand on her cheek with her own.
"I… I can't thank you enough, Sebastian I…" She gave him a small, quivering smile. "Never had someone cared so much about me…"
His heart fluttered and he caressed her cheek with his thumb. "You deserve it. You are special, remember? And I will do everything to keep you safe here with me."
"Seb…" She whispered, her eyes darting on his face. "I am in emotional distress, and yes, I feel gratitude towards you, immense gratitude… But I want you to know that it's not these feelings that are driving me to do what I want to do right now…" She paused, biting her lip. "And it's a very inappropriate thing by muggle standards."
His heart jumped again, hitting that lump that still lingered in his throat.
"What is?" He whispered, his eyes looking at every inch of her face.
"This."
And with that she kissed him. Gently. Hesitantly. It was all so sudden: her sweet lips on his, the warmth of her body and the soft intimacy of her, and whatever romance book he'd read, it was nothing compared to how it felt.
There were no fireworks. His heart was not pounding. It felt right. It felt like he had done it a thousand times and would do it a thousand more.
Her lips melded perfectly with his as his arms found their way around her waist and pulled her closer. He tangled his fingers in her hair and smelled the lily of the valley, and tasted her tears on her lips, and tasted his own along. She wrapped her arms around his neck and it was so slow and loving and passionate that he felt his limbs melt around her. He held her in his arms and kissed her again and again, as if he could never let her go. He could stay there forever, just like that, in that warm embrace where he felt at home.
The thought came like a shock of lightning in his stomach. He felt his arms hold her tighter, his voice soften the slightest bit. "I love you." He whispered.
She looked into his eyes, and he counted every speck of colour in them, one more beautiful than the other.
“You do?” She asked, her lips ghosting his, their breaths mingling. “You… love me?”
"I know I do," he breathed. “I would feel lost, incomplete without you. I want to wake up next to you every morning; I want to hear your voice, see your smile everyday and be the reason for it; I want to share my life with you. I... I want to give my life for you... for us." His words were soft, sweet, honest. "Yes, I love you."
“You… You really mean that?” She looked stunned, before averting her eyes. “I… I don’t want you to lose your freedom. I don’t want to be the reason you’re unhappy.”
“I could never be unhappy with you.” He whispered, caressing her cheek, and kissed her again.
“If… If you meant all that, and…” She paused, the weight of her words crushing her lungs. “You’ve only shown kindness to me… You’ve bought me flowers, you invited me to your house and… you said you wanted to court me… Do you still want that?”
His heart fluttered, and he couldn’t stop himself from smiling. He probably looked like a lovestruck idiot, but he didn’t care. Because the only thing that mattered right now was her. And how sweet she was, and how tender her words were, and how perfectly she fit in his arms.
“I don’t want to just court you,” he whispered, holding her face in his palm. “I want to marry you. I… I want you to be my wife. I have for a while now.”
His voice trembled in anticipation and fear, and his breath hitched when he saw the most gorgeous smile break on her beautiful face.
“T-Then… if my father approves… and he calls off this arrangement in favour of yours…” She said, her voice quivering, and he kissed her cheekbone reassuringly. “I’ll be honoured to become completely yours when the time comes.”
And there it was once more, the feeling that it must be a dream, that it couldn't be real. He must have fallen asleep during Ancient Runes again. His cheeks stretched into the widest grin, his chest hurt and the burn spread to his arms, which tightened around her as if wanting to melt her body into his.
“Do you…Really?” He whispered breathlessly, his eyes wide not to miss any detail of her face, in fear that, if he got distracted even just a second, she would fleet away.
“I love you, and I want to marry you, too.”
And he kissed her again, holding her like she was his very lifeline. And that time, he didn't taste tears or lips. He tasted her, everything she was and everything she would be with him, and he tasted his devotion, his affection as it found its way to her heart and made its home in that small nook just as he did in the much bigger one they were in, and he tasted hers doing the same, slowly grabbing the pieces scattered in his chest and using them to build its home again. And he kissed her until there was no air left. And he would happily give up his lungs as long as he still had her lips. Because the only thing he needed to breathe was her.
"And if not?" His voice trembled as his mouth reluctantly left its place. "If your father doesn't approve, will you still marry me? Would you run away with me? What would happen to us?"
"I would get thrown out of the muggle world…" She said, and he could feel a crack of uncertainty in her eyes, but then she licked her lips, and felt him, and everything he was for her. "But… I still have the wizarding world… our world. And I'll be yours until it crumbles."
"Then I'll make sure it's everlasting. I'll hold its weight in my hands if I have to."
"The only thing I want you to hold is me." She smiled and kissed the tip of his nose.
He let out a shaky breath.
"My companion for life." His voice trembled. "Each time I looked at you, I could only imagine what it would be like to have you as mine, how perfect our life could be and… and when you visited this summer and I saw you in my home, with Anne… I…"
She looked into his eyes reassuringly, and that was all Sebastian needed. She knew.
"I won't let anyone take you away from me." His arms tightened around her. "I love you."
"I love you, too." She gave him a small peck. "I'll write to my father, and… you probably will have to meet him soon."
"I will. I'll do anything in my power to make him say yes. And then… we can be one."
"And if he doesn't…" She smiled and he saw that astute spark that he loved so much. "You and I could threaten him with magic. He's scared of it, like all muggles."
"We could, couldn't we?" He smirked, his eyelids lowering slightly as he looked at her. "We could give him a taste of what your real home taught us."
She chuckled. "We still have the Trace, though, so it would be unwise to really try anything, or my real home will oust me before he can."
"We do have the Trace." He smiled wickedly. "But he doesn't have to know that."
She hugged him again and rested her head on his shoulder. "And if he tries to take me away once I'm seventeen, I'll modify his memories."
His breath caught, and frankly he should've been more concerned with her devil-may-care attitude on such a delicate matter… but he couldn't find it in his heart. He loved the idea just as much.
"That's my girl." He chuckled lowly and turned his head to kiss her forehead. "I knew you'd find the perfect way to deal with this."
He ran his hand on her arms as she cuddled in his lap, and then spoke again softly: "Would you really? Use it against your father, I mean."
"He doesn't deserve respect. He doesn't deserve to be called a father. All my life, he has treated me like a future investment, so I'll show no mercy, just as he did while raising me." She lifted her head and pecked his lips. "Especially if it means I can be with you after."
"Soon, he'll see the consequences of his foolishness." He muttered, his voice softer. "For now, you're mine to hold, to love, and to cherish, and that won't change."
"Stay with me for a bit," she breathed out, "here where no one can find us. We can read together, we can… skip classes?"
"Yes," he whispered tenderly. "Skip classes. Skip whatever you want."
He leaned down and kissed her again, and she wrapped her arms around his neck.
"All this kissing… it would be considered very inappropriate according to my family, but…" She pressed her lips on his again. "We're not in that stupid society, so we can do anything we want."
He laughed against her lips, and felt her breath on his chin, and cheeks, and nose, and everywhere it mattered. "Exactly. There's no one here who can tell us what to do… what to be. So… kiss me more, please?"
She smiled and did just that, pressing all her relief and joy against his soft flesh.
"Sebastian, I do want to marry you, but… I also want to experience what you pureblood wizards call 'dating', so…" Her nose bumped his tenderly. "Date me?"
He drew in a sharp breath, and his hands trembled around her.
"Yes," he choked on his breath. "Yes. A thousand times yes."
"Then I'll have to get Anne's blessing."
He rolled his eyes. "Anne loves you more than she loves me, I promise you."
He pretended to sulk and she giggled.
"Well, then she'll be happy I'll have her surname soon."
His jaw fell open as he stared at her, his chest filled with butterflies. He wanted to answer properly, to say something sweet, or witty, or tender, but he could only manage a choked sound at the back of his throat. She smiled and his breath hitched.
"Mrs. Sallow, is it?"
And if at least one name in that entire forsaken world had to sound perfect, that would be it. And she was perfect. And maybe, just maybe, he could be perfect with her.