Marauders One Shots

2am Thoughts (S.B. / LE) [drabble]

"I think I'm in love with you." He whispers, tucking a rogue strand of your hair behind your ear.

His confession is whispered into the late night; the moon high in the sky barely visible amongst the clouds. You lay next to him, sleeping soundly. Your hand lays on his chest, his lays on top of it keeping it held close to him.

He can't help but admire you at this hour; people have said for years that nothing good happens after 2am but if it means that he has you sleeping peacefully next to him then he is happy to argue each and every person.

He knows you won't hear his confession, but it is out there for the ears that listen at night; whose sole job is to take the confessions of those who cannot utter it in daylight. He has now joined the list of people doing so.

He has loved you for years. Things haven't been easy but through it all, he has loved you wholly and fiercely. He admired you from afar for so long, never once believing that he would have a chance with you. After all, his reputation and personality preceded him. However, you saw through that. You saw through his brashness to the damaged boy underneath and you helped him start to heal. His outlandishness, his ferocity calmed under your touch, your attention.

They said it would never last; complete opposites with nothing in common. He was absolutely determined to prove them wrong, and he has. He could shout it from the rooftops, he has proved them all wrong. For right now, he lies in bed with the woman he loves laying next to him. A woman he thought would never love him, but she does. She loves him so much that she would marry him and be his for eternity.

He whispers his confession of love, yet he knows that you know. Of course, you know. You have been married to him for years now. Words of love are uttered every single day; your love language shines through in every action. It never has to be grand gestures; it is always the little things. You would always make sure that he eats after he comes back from a raid; he would always lay a blanket over you if you had fallen asleep on the couch after work. All sorts of little gestures that the both of you do, he adores.

For years he believed that he would enter an arranged, loveless marriage. The product of his family's interference in his personal life and an attempt to further the family lineage. He never, for one second, believed that he would get to marry you. From the minute he asked you out, he saw a whole future with you. He saw everything and he wanted it; he wanted it so desperately – his family be damned. He saw a house, kids, dogs – the whole thing and he would be damned if he wasn't going to get it.

He blushes as he thinks of his proposal; his hands shook, tears welled in his eyes, he felt like he couldn't breathe. Then you said yes, and it was like a weight had been lifted off his chest, he could finally breathe again. You said yes. You said yes. To him.

He spent the rest of the week in daze, not truly believing what had happened every time he got a glimpse of the silver ring that sat prettily on your left hand. If he had it his way, he would have whisked you away to Gretna Green and eloped so he could see the second ring be placed on the very same finger. It is your left hand he holds as you lay next to him in bed. He runs a finger over both rings on your finger, wanting to laugh at himself for the years of self-doubt he had about him, about his love, about his life. One look at you and he realises that you are his life.

He cherishes mornings with you. When you are still half asleep, pawing at duvet until your hand touches him. A deep breath leaves your body at that moment, as if you're back to being grounded. He loves watching you slowly wake up, pottering about the kitchen, yawning as you make the breakfast and he makes the coffee.

He treasures his life with you.

It is getting later and later; he knows he needs to go to sleep. His eyes are starting to burn with the lack of it. You shift in bed, unconsciously moving closer to him. He smiles up at the ceiling as he wraps his arm tighter around your body.

He whispers to the night once more; "No, I know I'm in love with you."