"You know those wedding vows…?"
His eyes stayed fixed on her, on how dreamlike she looked. He thought she was lost in the romance of it all , thinking about how tender, how caring, those vows were meant to be.
"Those vows are outdated… maybe we should rewrite our own." Her words hung between them like a quiet, deliberate challenge. He blinked, caught off guard. He'd expected a joke, a teasing poke at tradition, maybe even a laugh. But this felt different. He noticed the shift, subtle, almost unnoticeable, yet undeniable.
He grinned, a teasing tilt to his smile, eyes soft and warm, completely caught up in her. His smile held, shy and playful, as if the world had narrowed down to just the two of them.
"Whatever you put down, I'll promise it twice- once for you, once for myself. If they're coming from you, I'll follow them till my last breath."
Her expression softened, his words melting the edges of her usual composure. She leaned in, resting her forehead against his, hands framing his face. She pulled back slightly.
"You're such a charmer, you know that," she murmured, her tone a mix of affection and teasing. Her eyes flicked to the portrait beside them. "I want more than just traditional vows."
The close proximity made his heart race, his body responding instinctively to her touch. He leaned into her, his gaze following hers to the portrait.
His hand found hers, fingers entwined. "Tell me what you want," he murmured, soft and utterly captivated.
Their fingers stayed locked together, palms pressed warm against each other, neither moving. For a long moment, she only gazed at him, soft, melting, the kind of look that made him forget the world existed outside her eyes. Her thumb moved in slow, tender circles against his skin.
"From today," she whispered, "you'll never have to walk alone again. Wherever you go, I'll be with you… you'll never take a step without me beside you."
His lips curved into a gentle smile. His eyes held an innocence that left him unguarded. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, his gaze never wavering, utterly convinced it was nothing but love.
She held his expression a moment longer, pleased by the quiet innocence there. Slowly, she loosened her grip, letting one hand slip free so she could trail her fingers into his hair, stroking gently, as though cradling something fragile.
Her tone softened, but beneath it ran a subtle edge. "No one in this world will ever understand you the way I do. Why waste yourself on people who will only hurt you?"
Her fingers traced slowly through his hair, each stroke unhurried, a caress that also felt like a claim. "Save your words… your laughter… your secrets...for me alone."
His brow furrowed faintly, a flicker of confusion breaking through, yet he didn't pull away. Instead, he leaned closer, convincing himself this was only her way of caring.
She watched the faint crease in his brow, and a small smile curved her lips, soft, but edged with certainty. Her hand slid from his hair to his cheek, her touch light, almost reverent.
"You don't have to hide anything from me," she said, her voice low, cutting through the air with unflinching resolve. "Every thought, every weakness, every shadow... I want them all. Let me carry what weighs you down. You don't have to bear it alone."
He clutched her hand against his face, holding on as if it were the only thing keeping him steady. No one had ever wanted his buried shadows. He felt exposed. Fragile.
"Then don't ever let go."
Her hand slid to his chin, tilting it up until his eyes met hers. The touch was gentle, yet unyielding, leaving him no room to turn away.
"When I ask something of you," she murmured, her gaze steady, " it's because I know what's best for us. Obedience isn't weakness, love. It's proof you trust me."
Those words, spoken with such conviction, sent a shiver down his spine. The word 'obedience' snapped through him, sharp and unexpected. He tried to hold on to his defiance, but it faltered under her steady gaze.
"Obedience?" he asked softly, the word foreign on his tongue. "What does that mean?"
Her thumb brushed over his lips, silencing the question before it could sharpen.
"Shhh… I'm not a monster," she murmured, her voice steady, leaving no room for doubt. "You can trust me."
Her hand rested at his chin, the weight of her touch both tender and inescapable.
"You don't have to love yourself," she whispered, her eyes unblinking. "That's my task now. I'll love you enough for the both of us."
He hesitated, lips trembling slightly, caught between being moved and a sudden sting. "How am I supposed to take that?" he murmured, his voice tight with a mix of surprise and unease.
Her hand trailed away from his chin, leaving his skin cold where her touch had been. She stepped back, and the distance between them felt like punishment.
"If doubts ever cloud your mind," she said, her voice steady, "remember! I'm not here to hurt you. I'm your home. Your safety. Your forever."
The sudden absence hollowed him out, her retreat cutting deeper than any harsh word. Guilt pressed into his chest, sharp and unshakable, as if he'd already failed her.
"I don't… I don't understand," he admitted, his throat tight. His eyes searched hers, wide and pleading. "What exactly do you want from me?"
Silence hung heavy between them. She waited, letting the quiet bend to her will. When she spoke at last, her words fell like a decree, her voice soft, stripped of warmth.
"Stay at home. I'll provide for both of us."
His eyes widened in shock, then narrowed into something tighter - confusion, maybe even the faintest edge of frustration. The words tangled inside him, too heavy to fight, too sharp to ignore.
"What does that even mean? I'm capable, and you want me to…."
"That's what I want," she interrupted, her tone steady, final, closing every path of resistance before he could take it.
She stepped forward, closing the distance between them again, her movements slow and deliberate, a flicker of amusement glinting in her eyes, too sharp to be mistaken for tenderness. Her hands slid over his shoulders, holding him still, her nearness wrapping around him like chains disguised as warmth.
"And if you ever feel caged," she whispered, her breath ghosting against his ear, "remind yourself - it's not a prison. It's the sweetest cage, built from my love for you."
His jaw tightened, his mind stumbling over 'cage' and 'obedience', over the command still ringing in her voice. He wasn't ready. Not for this, not for what it meant. But her affection, warm and suffocating, and the thought of disappointing her was worse than the fear prickling at the edges of his chest.
"I…" His voice faltered, breaking under the weight of silence. At last, his eyes lifted to hers, uncertain but yielding. "If that's what you want… then I'll try."
She pressed her lips to his forehead, then murmured, "There… that's perfect, " her voice more than certain. "The world out there would never understand you like I do. I will always protect you… love you."
He shut his eyes, letting the words sink in, clinging to them like a promise. Yet beneath the warmth of her embrace, the truth pulsed steady, inescapable. He was already inside a sweet cage that she called their Perfect Home.