Bill can't remember ever wanting to do anything more.
As his lips meet hers their clothing fairly flies off them: gown and tuxedo and garters and veil and dress shirt and vest and tie and trousers fold themselves neatly on a corner chair. Her bouquet settles into a vase, but neither of them really pays any mind to any of this.
Fleur wants satisfied; he'll make certain she's satisfied.
(He's good at that.)
With a flick of his hand the lights dim.
And everything else... there is no everything else. There's only Fleur.
no subject
As his lips meet hers their clothing fairly flies off them: gown and tuxedo and garters and veil and dress shirt and vest and tie and trousers fold themselves neatly on a corner chair. Her bouquet settles into a vase, but neither of them really pays any mind to any of this.
Fleur wants satisfied; he'll make certain she's satisfied.
(He's good at that.)
With a flick of his hand the lights dim.
And everything else... there is no everything else. There's only Fleur.