Kissing him softly, we stand there for a moment under the half light of the wedding canopy. For a second, Alastor's whole body tenses with the suddenness of it all, then, after a few short seconds, his body relaxes, ears flattening as he returns the kiss. His lips are soft against mine, mouth warm, a little purr of joy rising in his throat as he deepens the kiss between us.
In that moment I do not care for the silent, gaping nobles, or Yariel, or my half unconscious mother in the hands of my no longer husband to be. Even the Devil fades from my periphery, replaced only by the tingle of warmth that rises through my body, and Alastor's hands sliding up to my cheek, his mouth hungry on my own.
There is an unspoken word between us, a series of words that neither of us will care to admit to, by know deep down have been brewing for a long, long time. If only I had realised it sooner.
