[His gaze drops again - first low, as he's often done when he's uncertain, then up again towards her lips, unable to help himself - before rising to return to her eyes. It's impossible not to notice how she looks at him, all smiles and affection and kindness pointed in his direction and no one else's. It's just them, he and her, none between or around them. He can't deny the truth: that the expression on her face is for him, to him, from him. She deserves better than his doubting thoughts.
Wonderful, she says. I'm not wonderful, he wants to rebuff; someone wonderful wouldn't have failed so often, would have accepted his fate with the sort of grace and regality that his kingdom demands, like the rulers before him, like the man who started it all. Someone wonderful would be able to give her everything she wants and more, and he doesn't know if he can, doesn't know what this is yet.
But... she's wonderful, warm and sweet and holding him so gently, like he's all that matters in this moment. He wants to be wonderful for her. He wants to be better, to feel worthy of the look she's gracing him. If she thinks he's wonderful as he is, he won't try and tell her she's wrong. He'll earn it.]
...Okay, [is at last his quiet, humbled reply, cupping her cheeks and pulling her in for another kiss before his idiot head and equally idiot mouth can say anything else to contradict her. Indulging in her embrace is much better than listening to any lingering insecurities; those can wait their damn turn.]
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Wonderful, she says. I'm not wonderful, he wants to rebuff; someone wonderful wouldn't have failed so often, would have accepted his fate with the sort of grace and regality that his kingdom demands, like the rulers before him, like the man who started it all. Someone wonderful would be able to give her everything she wants and more, and he doesn't know if he can, doesn't know what this is yet.
But... she's wonderful, warm and sweet and holding him so gently, like he's all that matters in this moment. He wants to be wonderful for her. He wants to be better, to feel worthy of the look she's gracing him. If she thinks he's wonderful as he is, he won't try and tell her she's wrong. He'll earn it.]
...Okay, [is at last his quiet, humbled reply, cupping her cheeks and pulling her in for another kiss before his idiot head and equally idiot mouth can say anything else to contradict her. Indulging in her embrace is much better than listening to any lingering insecurities; those can wait their damn turn.]