Leading her through the spotted bars of reaching streetlamp, Val grins as he nears a peculiar old shop"a shop that seemed to stick out. As if it were important, or part of the trip. "Remember," he asks; his head a bit lopsided as he backpedals beyond the glass wall of the old shop. "It's where we went shopping for the first time."
Martyr blinked a few times. She'd taken nineteen-too-many hits on the head since she'd met him, still, it was a place a semi-truck wouldn't knock from her memory..."Ugh!" Standing at attention as the woman peered inside. "It's w-where y-you b-bought m-me those b-boots...The f-first thing y-you ever b-b-bought m-me!" The princess-who had turned into a queen the day Max was born-chimed out to him with a ear-to-ear smile on her face as wide eyes lit with affection.
"Yes," he smiled, though it was no secret. The man's arms wrap around her waist. He tugs at her belly and kisses the back of her neck. "The first thing I ever bought you." The words are sung through a smile. A smile that dissipates to sigh, eyes sinking to the tough, concrete plates of the sidewalk. Slowly, he takes her hand and tugs, hoping to unspool her, the idea to turn her around to meet him at the eyes. "It's hard for me, Martyr. So many years I spent locking myself away—-I don't know why"probably because I knew my death was only a corner-side away. Like one day I'd simply turn the key to the front doors of that dank, lonely hotel, and my body would simply be dust. Maybe I just didn't care anymore. Maybe....maybe I just couldn't stand to hurt anyone, ever again. But then you....you, my Martyr, came running through the night while I lent my aching bones against the streetlamp....that one," he grinned, sneaking a pinky out to spotlight the lone lamp that was drilled into ground several blocks away. "And....you're smart enough to not that even then my intentions were not pure," his eyes sink, but find a quick salvation atop a smile. He leans onto a single knee. "I...know you've done this already, but....we're unconventional, remember?" Perhaps, just perhaps, the first sign of a blush in maybe a century could be spied on the man's ivory flesh as he tugged a little ring out of his pocket. Ropes of white gold that support a lush and peerless diamond. "I owe you this, Martyr. I love you, and I want you to be my wife."
Martyr, who had been peering through the window as her lover went on, directed her attention to the street post. Violet eyes widened as memories flooded her head. Something about being unconventional rang into her head as he spoke. It was an understatement. There she was, what would feel like years ago....She'd been walking alone without a care in the world, without shoes, without a second thought as to why she was walking or where she was moving to....Martyr's violet eyes softened for a moment as she stared at that sign. There was a silence, well after he'd taken to a knee and brought out the ring, not because she was having second thoughts, or even because she'd not a clue what to say—it was because Martyr hadn't noticed him in the state. Up until the moment she'd met him, she didn't care about anything, didn't feel emotions, didn't fear a thing....Up until that moment when he'd spoken his first words to her, it was like...."I wasn't born until I met you..." Martyr mumbled after a long, and probably for him, awkward pause. There hadn't been a single stutter in that soft, low voice. Her thoughts rang aloud as the mocha-haired queen continued to stare. He'd talked to her, clothed her....Granted, he did stab her in the chest and use her for that fountain of youth she called a bloodstream—but that's how Martyr made all of her friends. Finally, she turned to face him, lending him coal as pupils expanded, and eyes widened. "V-val?" Yeah, she'd missed everything he'd said....Rather than make him repeat it, she allowed those eyes to stare at the ring and make her own assessment of the situation.....Wait for it... "Y-you....W-want to r-return the ring I g-got y-you?" No, that wasn't right....Her ring was different. "W-wait...! Y-you....W-want that one instead!" Yeah..! Still, she hadn't taken those bright eyes from the shimmering stone that danced beneath the very light post they'd met beneath.. "It's n-not a b-big d-deal, I m-mean....I w-worked h-hard p-picking the other one out, b-but...! I used y-your m-money t-to b-buy it anyways....S-so....Y-you c-can h-have w-whatever you'd like!" The perfect gentleman said, moving down on her knee to peer closer to the ring. "Y-yes! That one is m-much p-prettier, and y-you shall h-have it!" Nodding with her words as she stared up at him from her now-kneeling position. Nodnodnod.
Skin bristles on the corner of his forehead as he has the slightest inclination to truely reinvent their meeting, by driving his palm through her belly again. Instead he laughs a laugh that's perhaps mostly sigh, and waves his long fingers. Maybe she'd notice the fact that he was still WEARING the one she'd purchased. "Martyr....I'm asking you to marry me. Because I owe it to you. You didn't hear me?" A high-brow perches atop a curious look-up as the smile waivers strangely. "I bought this for you..." Blinkblinkblink.
Martyr blinked a few times. She'd taken nineteen-too-many hits on the head since she'd met him, still, it was a place a semi-truck wouldn't knock from her memory..."Ugh!" Standing at attention as the woman peered inside. "It's w-where y-you b-bought m-me those b-boots...The f-first thing y-you ever b-b-bought m-me!" The princess-who had turned into a queen the day Max was born-chimed out to him with a ear-to-ear smile on her face as wide eyes lit with affection.
"Yes," he smiled, though it was no secret. The man's arms wrap around her waist. He tugs at her belly and kisses the back of her neck. "The first thing I ever bought you." The words are sung through a smile. A smile that dissipates to sigh, eyes sinking to the tough, concrete plates of the sidewalk. Slowly, he takes her hand and tugs, hoping to unspool her, the idea to turn her around to meet him at the eyes. "It's hard for me, Martyr. So many years I spent locking myself away—-I don't know why"probably because I knew my death was only a corner-side away. Like one day I'd simply turn the key to the front doors of that dank, lonely hotel, and my body would simply be dust. Maybe I just didn't care anymore. Maybe....maybe I just couldn't stand to hurt anyone, ever again. But then you....you, my Martyr, came running through the night while I lent my aching bones against the streetlamp....that one," he grinned, sneaking a pinky out to spotlight the lone lamp that was drilled into ground several blocks away. "And....you're smart enough to not that even then my intentions were not pure," his eyes sink, but find a quick salvation atop a smile. He leans onto a single knee. "I...know you've done this already, but....we're unconventional, remember?" Perhaps, just perhaps, the first sign of a blush in maybe a century could be spied on the man's ivory flesh as he tugged a little ring out of his pocket. Ropes of white gold that support a lush and peerless diamond. "I owe you this, Martyr. I love you, and I want you to be my wife."
Martyr, who had been peering through the window as her lover went on, directed her attention to the street post. Violet eyes widened as memories flooded her head. Something about being unconventional rang into her head as he spoke. It was an understatement. There she was, what would feel like years ago....She'd been walking alone without a care in the world, without shoes, without a second thought as to why she was walking or where she was moving to....Martyr's violet eyes softened for a moment as she stared at that sign. There was a silence, well after he'd taken to a knee and brought out the ring, not because she was having second thoughts, or even because she'd not a clue what to say—it was because Martyr hadn't noticed him in the state. Up until the moment she'd met him, she didn't care about anything, didn't feel emotions, didn't fear a thing....Up until that moment when he'd spoken his first words to her, it was like...."I wasn't born until I met you..." Martyr mumbled after a long, and probably for him, awkward pause. There hadn't been a single stutter in that soft, low voice. Her thoughts rang aloud as the mocha-haired queen continued to stare. He'd talked to her, clothed her....Granted, he did stab her in the chest and use her for that fountain of youth she called a bloodstream—but that's how Martyr made all of her friends. Finally, she turned to face him, lending him coal as pupils expanded, and eyes widened. "V-val?" Yeah, she'd missed everything he'd said....Rather than make him repeat it, she allowed those eyes to stare at the ring and make her own assessment of the situation.....Wait for it... "Y-you....W-want to r-return the ring I g-got y-you?" No, that wasn't right....Her ring was different. "W-wait...! Y-you....W-want that one instead!" Yeah..! Still, she hadn't taken those bright eyes from the shimmering stone that danced beneath the very light post they'd met beneath.. "It's n-not a b-big d-deal, I m-mean....I w-worked h-hard p-picking the other one out, b-but...! I used y-your m-money t-to b-buy it anyways....S-so....Y-you c-can h-have w-whatever you'd like!" The perfect gentleman said, moving down on her knee to peer closer to the ring. "Y-yes! That one is m-much p-prettier, and y-you shall h-have it!" Nodding with her words as she stared up at him from her now-kneeling position. Nodnodnod.
Skin bristles on the corner of his forehead as he has the slightest inclination to truely reinvent their meeting, by driving his palm through her belly again. Instead he laughs a laugh that's perhaps mostly sigh, and waves his long fingers. Maybe she'd notice the fact that he was still WEARING the one she'd purchased. "Martyr....I'm asking you to marry me. Because I owe it to you. You didn't hear me?" A high-brow perches atop a curious look-up as the smile waivers strangely. "I bought this for you..." Blinkblinkblink.