Noelle sat in front of the mirror, methodically oiling and brushing his hair, but his focus kept drifting. Thorne had been acting strange all day, even though he looked perfectly relaxed now, lounging on the bed. Still, Noelle noticed the smallest things about him, and today, it was the twitch of Thorne's left pinky finger that betrayed his anxiety. He'd seen this before—back when Thorne had been so determined to walk again after being bound to the wheelchair for months.
Noelle tried to ignore it at first, continuing with his grooming routine, but he couldn't. Thorne's tension hung in the air, distracting him more and more with each passing minute. Finally, unable to take the atmosphere anymore, Noelle cut his routine short, setting down his brush and rising from his chair.
The sudden movement made Thorne jump up like a spring. "You're done?!" he blurted out, far too eagerly. Noelle simply raised an eyebrow, watching him carefully.
Thorne's face flushed as he caught himself, taking a few deep breaths to calm his obvious nervousness. After a moment, he spoke again, his voice a bit more composed. "Will you go somewhere with me tomorrow?" he asked, but there was a strange edge to his tone.
Noelle's curiosity piqued. "Sure," he replied, still watching Thorne closely, wondering what was on his mind. The anxious energy radiating from him suggested that whatever this was about, it was important.
*
Noelle stood at the top of the hill, panting softly. His legs ached from the climb, and he was more than a little confused. Why in the world had Thorne dragged him up here, especially in this cold? The chilly wind nipped at his face, but he was thankful for his fur-lined jacket. He glanced over to where their little house sat in the distance—it seemed so peaceful from this vantage point. Under the large tree, Thorne was fussing about, laying down the blanket and pulling out fruits from the basket he'd insisted on bringing.
"All set!" Thorne called out, looking up at him, but his expression was anything but calm. His nervous energy was almost palpable, and the sight of it made a knot tighten in Noelle's stomach.
What is going on? Noelle thought, his mind racing. The more he observed Thorne's anxious movements, the more his own thoughts spiraled. *Is he about to break up with me?* Panic and anger flashed through him at the thought. *Well, if that's what he thinks, he's got another thing coming. We're not breaking up. He's mine.*
Determined, he moved to sit on the blanket, his eyes never leaving Thorne as he prepared himself for whatever was about to come next. If Thorne thought Noelle would just accept whatever was happening without a fight, he was sorely mistaken.
"I don't know why I didn't anticipate the weather," Thorne says, plopping down beside me. I can feel the nervous energy radiating off him, his body heat unusually warm against the cool breeze.
"Yeah, it's not like winter is starting or anything," I respond, trying to keep the sarcasm in check as I pull my fur jacket tighter.
"Right. I'm sorry," Thorne mumbles, his voice unusually soft. He shifts uncomfortably, avoiding my gaze.
I raise an eyebrow, watching him fidget like he's on the verge of something. The way his fingers tug at the edges of the blanket, how his eyes dart around—he's definitely worked up about something, and it's starting to get to me. What is going on with him today?
"Noelle, these past couple of months with you have been a dream," Thorne starts, his voice soft, vulnerable. His blue eyes meet mine with an intensity that makes me pause. "I mean, you are everything I didn't know I needed, and I don't know what makes me so special that you're in my life and not someone else's."
I narrow my eyes, suspicion creeping up my spine. His words sound sweet, but something feels off. His fingers fumble nervously with the hem of his coat, and I brace myself.
"I know saying this is dumb, but—" Thorne continues, but I can't hear him anymore. My heartbeat pounds in my ears, drowning out everything. This is it. He's going to leave me. He doesn't want me anymore, now that he's healed, now that he's fine.
He's...rejecting me? All because he refused to sleep with me during my heat? Anger flares hot in my chest. This fucking son of a—
"Will you marry me?"
What?
I snap out of my spiraling thoughts and stare at him, my mouth slightly open in shock.
"What?"