scrypted_sonnet
It wasn’t the only time he asked her.
He asked her in the morning, over steaming cups of tea.
He asked before she dozed off, applegrass stains on their knees.
He asked in the library, their cheeks warm from the fire.
He asked on an impossible planet, when all seemed lost.
He asked when she rolled over, grumbling that he hogged the covers.
He asked in 2012, swaying as fireworks boomed overhead.
And no matter how many times he asked, her answer was the same.
How long are you gonna stay with me?
Forever.