Love's Not Time's Fool // Ominis Gaunt & Anne Sallow

Affection & Ink

Author's Note: Mood - "Brand New" by Ben Rector

***

June 1895

Ominis awoke to Anne's lips brushing their way down his face, peppering each of his moles with a gentle kiss. She woke him up in this delightful manner most mornings, but he would still never get used to the way it made his whole body come alight.

"Good morning, dearest. Are you ready to get married today?"

Ominis shot up in bed, cricking his neck. He was marrying Anne today! He brought his hand up delicately, rubbing where the ache originated, then rolled his shoulders. Ah, much better.

Anne giggled. Her peals of laughter still brought endless joy to Ominis's ears. "You forgot?"

"No," he said, joining in her laughter.

"You did," she replied, not unkindly. She ruffled his hair affectionately.

He hadn't forgotten, per se, but he had remembered he needed to finish rewriting his vows before the ceremony. He'd been running through them in his head last night before falling asleep. They had technically been done since a few weeks ago, but an idea crossed his mind, as ideas were wont to do in the midnight hours, and he mustn't forget it before the day went along on its merry way.

Ominis untangled himself from the sheets and scrambled out of bed to a muffled sound of dissent from Anne. "What in Merlin's name are you in such a hurry for?" she said with an amused lilt in her tone.

"Nothing that concerns you until later." Ominis raised a brow in the direction of her voice and tossed her a cheeky grin. He made his way downstairs, his right hand tracing the wall as was his custom, and to the dining room table, feeling around for his wand. Once his wand was firmly in hand, he cast Accio for a fresh piece of parchment and his quill and inkwell, then began the final draft of his vows.

The floorboards creaked above his head, indicating Anne was up and about shortly after him, already puttering around in preparation for this momentous day. Ominis wondered what gown she would be wearing later. He hoped there was at least a small patch of velvet. Was that a common fabric for a wedding dress? He doubted it, but Anne would find a way. She knew how much he adored the feel of velvet on the tips of his fingers.

It felt silly drafting his vows on parchment he wouldn't technically be reading from, but Ominis wanted Anne to have a physical reminder of his love for her. His last draft he had tucked away beneath some papers in his desk drawer. He would find it later and add it to the pile of attempts from the past few months. Perhaps he'd keep them and give them to her as gifts over the next few years. For, surely, there would be years to come now. 

Ever since Sebastian, aided by Damien, cured Anne's curse in the summer of 1891—an event that still never ceased to astonish everyone that witnessed it—Anne had been hearty and healthy. Ominis couldn't even recall her having a cold in the time that passed since. It was as if her body had decided she had been ill long enough and had gifted her with endless health and vitality.

Anne's mischievous personality, for she had always been the mastermind behind most of Sebastian's shenanigans, returned with time. While she had been a school year behind them all, she raced back into her studies, not missing a beat, and it was an epic year of pranks, most of which were both planned and executed by her, since she hadn't fully forgiven Sebastian for the events of the prior year. Her lone escapades worked out anyway since Sebastian was so busy with Damien, doing Merlin knows what. Ominis chuckled warmly to himself. He suspected Sebastian and Damien would be getting married next.

But back to the task at hand! He straightened the parchment out on the table, twisted open the lid of the inkwell, dipped his quill, and began his final draft of his wedding vows: