For a brief moment, as that clear certainty rushed out of Liliana and into him to make his entire chest surge forward with emotion, Ignis thought that this had to be a dream. Could it truly be anything but? This absolutely perfect moment of happiness seemed unreal. Surreal. Well, if he were to end up waking up at any moment, let the last thing he clung to as he was reluctantly dragged back into reality be kissing her and drinking deeply from that deliriously dizzying font.
But he didn't wake up, tangled in the cool sheets of the mansion back on the island, or worse, the spartan bed in his apartment, by himself with Gladio's snores through the walls to suggest that it all had been just some extended dream. She was firm and warm in his arms, a contrast to the quickly cooling night, as the nighttime settled around them, as real and palpable as the feeling of love and devotion pouring out of them both.
"Ah," he said, realizing something once he finally had to pull back for air, and there was a rare lightness, an almost giddiness to his laugh, though perhaps not quite so abnormal to the ears that heard it now. "Wait a minute, 'Iana. I seem to have forgotten something crucial. Forgive me." The grin he gave her was almost boyish, in its elation. "Just one more time. Liliana?"
And as terrible as it was to have to draw away from her, he did so now, though his hand never left her, traveling down her arm to her hand as he pulled back enough so that he could lower himself down to one knee. The grin remained as a sort of wry acknowledgement to the quaintness of the gesture, but it did seem fitting, and incredibly natural. After all, dedication and loyalty and service had been a part of his inherent self ever since he was very young (too young); he clearly didn't need to kneel to pledge himself entirely to Liliana, but, then again, why shouldn't he, either? And besides, it made it all the easier to slip the small box from his pocket, of a soft white velvet, and, inside, a bright green satin. Idiosyncratic and confusing to the unkeen eye and perhaps even just a touch gaudy, but surely not to anyone who could understand the meaning of the insignificant piece of metal nestled inside.
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But he didn't wake up, tangled in the cool sheets of the mansion back on the island, or worse, the spartan bed in his apartment, by himself with Gladio's snores through the walls to suggest that it all had been just some extended dream. She was firm and warm in his arms, a contrast to the quickly cooling night, as the nighttime settled around them, as real and palpable as the feeling of love and devotion pouring out of them both.
"Ah," he said, realizing something once he finally had to pull back for air, and there was a rare lightness, an almost giddiness to his laugh, though perhaps not quite so abnormal to the ears that heard it now. "Wait a minute, 'Iana. I seem to have forgotten something crucial. Forgive me." The grin he gave her was almost boyish, in its elation. "Just one more time. Liliana?"
And as terrible as it was to have to draw away from her, he did so now, though his hand never left her, traveling down her arm to her hand as he pulled back enough so that he could lower himself down to one knee. The grin remained as a sort of wry acknowledgement to the quaintness of the gesture, but it did seem fitting, and incredibly natural. After all, dedication and loyalty and service had been a part of his inherent self ever since he was very young (too young); he clearly didn't need to kneel to pledge himself entirely to Liliana, but, then again, why shouldn't he, either? And besides, it made it all the easier to slip the small box from his pocket, of a soft white velvet, and, inside, a bright green satin. Idiosyncratic and confusing to the unkeen eye and perhaps even just a touch gaudy, but surely not to anyone who could understand the meaning of the insignificant piece of metal nestled inside.
"Once again, will you marry me?"