𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐑 ✩ ᴀᴀʀᴏɴ ᴊᴜᴅɢᴇ¹ ✓
you're all, i need lie together, cry together i swear to god i hope we fucking die together
in the heart of the bustling city of new york, where the roar of the crowd was as constant as the ebb and flow...
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𝙲𝙷𝙰𝙿𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝙵𝙸𝙵𝚃𝚈 !
┌────── ⚾ ──────┐ 2021 └────── ⚾ ──────┘
a towel was wrapped around luce's torso as her husband dried his hair with another towel. she was sitting between his legs, leaning against him. she could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest and the thump of his heart against her back. her hands were folded in her lap and her eyes were closed, enjoying the quiet moment between them.
"how's it look?" he asked, his voice breaking the silence.
she sat up and turned to look at him. his hair was still damp, the wet curls clinging to his forehead. she reached up and moved a few strands, brushing them to the side. her fingers lingered there for a few moments longer than necessary, her thumb rubbing his skin. her hand slid down to his jaw, and she ran her thumb across his bottom lip.
"wet," she laughed, her fingers running through his hair, pushing the rest of the wet curls back.
"thanks," he deadpanned, rolling his eyes.
"i mean, you're a mess, but you're a hot mess, and that's all that matters," she teased, grabbing the towel he'd been using before to try to dry his hair more. it didn't do much, considering the towel was already wet, but she did her best.
"well, i'm glad you think so," he chuckled, leaning closer and pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.
"when do you think they're gonna come looking for us?" she asked, looking back to where the reception was being held.
