heda-kom-trikru:

Mallory gazed in awe at the black golf-ball sized diamond that laid across a deep crimson velvet case. Another gift from Michael, which marked it as the third this week.

She lifted the heavy pendant with its luminous golden chain and laid it delicately in her palm.

A small smile dancing across her lips as the black orb shifted in the warm fire light. It was a something of hers now that even make Coco of all people desire.

It would, that is, if Mallory could ever work up the courage to wear it.

Her position as a gray had left her feeling slightly embarrassed about how physically presentable she was, but just the thought of wearing this in elegant balls or fancy parties she denied herself in the past made her heart flutter.

“Do you like it?” A voice of prominent grandeur echoed from behind her.

Mallory’s smile faded and was replaced with a feeling of regrettable indulgement. Shyness wiped her serenity clean off her pale cheeks and replaced it with a blossoming scarlet.

“It’s beautiful,” Mallory breathed, her eyes falling to the reflection of Michael in the ebony diamond.

She felt a light brush against her shoulder from the palm of the man who loved her. The sound of his echoing footsteps neared Mallory as he turned to kneel before her.

His icy grey irises pierced through her facade of embarrassment as if it was a hex. “Is it?” He cocked an eyebrow, his head titling slightly and his lips pursed.

She stifled a chuckle. “It really is, I swear…” she trailed, wishing she hadn’t let her own feelings of shyness confuse him with rejection.

“Then what’s wrong?” He questioned solemnly. “I won’t be offended, Mallory.”

She turned to face him, his eyes shining bright in the firelit room.

Mallory rolled her eyes and smiled slightly, trying to sound the least bit exasperated. “What’s with the pampering lately? You haven’t been planning on dumping me, have you?”

Michael didn’t understand the joke; however, and furrowed his brow in deep confusion. “Is that what this is about?” He asked softly, taking her free hand that rested softly upon her lap in his.

“Oh, fuck, n-no that’s not what I meant at all. I was just joking,” she laughed embarassed and he smiled at her reassurance. “I just…I’m…” she trailed, searching for the right words to say in a fucking moment like this.

“You give me these gifts like I’m the queen of England, or something. But why? I won’t be able to wear any of these in the unfortunate state I’m in, and quite frankly I probably couldn’t pull them off anyways-“

“You’re right. Anything that is pulled off of you is done only by me,” he seductively teased. Her cheeks flared up again with a deeper shade of crimson and she couldn’t help the growing smile now painting itself across her face.

“You know what I meant, dumbass,” she joked. “I’m just not…not suited to where this type of stuff.”

Michael inched closer to her and slowly grazed her face with intimate affection.

“All the women that have begged me for even a second glance combined could never be as captivating as you are,” he responded, and she felt her stomach drop at his words.

“Oh fucking please,” she rolled her eyes again and bit her bottom lip. She could hear him chuckle lightly as his finger trailed down her cheek.

“I love you, Mallory,” he said earnestly, his words dripping like honey.

“Yeah, okay.” She laughed and blushed fiercely. He drew her close to him in a chastely long kiss, one of such innocent love that she had nearly forgotten what side of the heavenly war they were both on.

But they’d make it work. The world may have ended and pitted both of them supposedly against one another, but they could carve out their own fate. And they would.

It was almost certainly a risk worth fighting for…and Mallory didn’t regret any second of it.