What Is Love?

Brave, Honest, Beautiful

Author's Note: Here are two prompts that have been requested: "Witney and Mark are more romantic with each other" and "What their relationship looks like to everyone else." Hope you all enjoy! Please comment your thoughts in the comment section, and/or vote! :)))
_________________

He took her in his arms, and into a hold that exuded such elegance; their atmosphere of solitude was comprised of her feathery giggles, flying high above them, becoming tangled within the faint whisperings of his adoration: for her, and only her. They moved across the floor as one being, in a magical, breathtaking, state that can only be reached through the art of dance - the art of love, not lust. One could plainly see that these two don't dance for fame, they don't dance for money, they dance for the sake of experiencing the purest form of pleasure. Each other and nothing else.

"I love you," he was saying to her now, the hands that were on her waist firmly buried in her hair.

"I love you more," she replied not a second later, like a reflex, and by no means was it obligatory; she really did love him, she loved him as much as her heart would allow.

And so it went on like that, a relay back and forth of those exact words - with "more" now meaning infinitely - and neither one of them dropped that baton, neither one of them wanted to lose the ultimate prize of their mutual amour.

Derek laughed to himself, though louder, apparently, than he'd anticipated. His chuckling, ever so full with a genuine happiness, had brought the couple back to earth.

"I knew you'd find her man," he said, and the sentiment alone was enough to bring Witney to tears as she raised her head from inside the crook of Mark's neck, a watery smile pooling atop her natural pout.

"You really feel that way, Der?"
"You're the one babe," Derek winked, Mark having left the conversation and the two people apart of it to take a phone call.

"He's crazy about you. He even asked Jules for advice on how to - "

"What was that?" Mark asked when he walked back over to them, his arm returning to its rightful spot: slung lazily around the waist of his girlfriend.

"Nothin. I was just telling Wit about how when we were growing up you used to pretend to be Ross Gellar. Well, Mr. Gellar, it looks to me like you've found Ms. Rachel Green."

Witney burst into giggles, not fully comprehending the metaphorical intonation of the words last spoken.

As a result of her laughter, her mind became comprimised and the mute tacit exchanged between Mark and Derek - a thumbs up - wasn't caught. There was also something - a physical object - passed between them, but that wasn't seen either, luckily.

"Witney Capri Carson..."

At the use of her full name, she turned around, only to find her boyfriend down on one knee, clenching his fist as though he was holding something of vital importance, something that was not to be seen by prying, watchful, eyes. She gasped, the sound startling her some as its sharpness cut messily across her lungs, causing a moments coughing fit. Despite being unable to clearly vocalize her desire, she nodded her head, signaling for him to continue.

"All of my life, I dreamed of having a love just like, not the one of my parents believe it or not, but like Ross and Rachel. You're my lobster baby, my girl, you've always been it."

She laughed softly, its wispiness getting caught up in the mellifluous notes of "My Girl" as it began to play, though quieter so as to not overpower the speech being presented. The proposal. His proposal, to her. It was utterly surreal.

"You were, you are, it for me. I never wanted, nor do I want anybody else. I never will for as long as I live. I never will, not even as I die; you and me Wit, we're end game. One True Pair. We're the freaking Titanic...before it crashed into an iceberg..."