❝marriageverse❞

[timeanalyst]

∞

or, “somebody stop mobius before he goes off the rails”



⋄❥ an arranged marriage
⋄❥ the mid-morning after

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the mid-morning after.

[timeanalyst]

[continued from HERE.]

It's nearly impossible to tell how long they've slept. It was so late into the night when they tumbled into bed - despite the party still raging on in the main hall as they took their leave - and when Mobius begins to stir there are slivers of sunlight streaming in wherever they can sneak past the drawn curtains. Casting the faintest traces of light across the room and bed. No - their room. Their bed. It's going to take some getting used to that.

He squints, bleary-eyed as his vision struggles to focus. Still dark for the most part. No signs of anyone coming to disturb them. (Unless they slept through those knocks too? Who knows.) It's quiet, save for the distant sounds of songbirds and the soft breathing from the body next to him. He blinks and the inky black curls of his new husband finally register. They must've shifted during the night, and now they're both on their sides, Loki held close in his arms. Mobius nearly chuckles at the idea of him being the big spoon, but here he is. His chest nearly flush against Loki's back, arms wrapped around the prince's middle, both of their legs tangled beneath the blankets and sheets. Close, but not too close. Comfortable and secure.

He lifts his head from the pillow after stifling a yawn, just enough to quietly observe the other sleep. How serene his expression, the way his lips are slightly parted, the gentle rise and fall of his chest. So peaceful. Mobius doesn't want to wake him - even if one of his arms is currently pinned and numb. He dares to press a kiss to the prince's shoulder before resting his head back down and closing his eyes. He'll stay here for the time being, enjoying the intimacy and having him in his arms like this. Maybe even drift off if the time is right.