Almost before you had stopped walking, you felt lips on your own. It was tentative, but quickly gained confidence as you started to kiss back. Your hands had snaked up, almost with a will of their own, to weave themselves in his red hair, pulling his head down. Likewise, his arms were wrapped around you, holding you close. You would have been quite happy to die quietly there and then, but, you reminded yourself, you’d miss so much.
“Marry me.” He muttered against your lips. You nodded fervently, jerking away accidentally. He pulled away further.
“Seriously?” he asked. You looked at him like he was insane.
“Yes, I’m serious. No, I’m not kidding. And if you don’t kiss me right now, I’ll—Mmph!” He cut you off, delivering the kiss you wanted.
“Korin?” You asked when you’d broken for air.
“Mm?” was his only response.
“I love you.”“Likewise, lass.” He replied, kissing your forehead chastely.
and the epilogue
Three young people sat in stunned silence at the end of the story. Their grandmother sat rocking in her chair, a ginger cat curled up asleep on her ample lap.
“Grandma, did that really happen?” the youngest, a girl, still at the age where true love and princess stories are very much in high demand.
“What happened next? Did Korin kill any more evil vampires?” asked the girl’s twin brother, who liked adventures best of all.
“Were they married, with lots of kids?” asked the third child, the twins elder sister, two years their senior. The old lady sitting in the rocking chair smiled warmly at her grandchildren.
“It did indeed happen, my dears, though it was a very, very long time ago. No, Korin never did kill any more vampires, and yes, Korin and Aylen did get married and did have plenty of children. Even a set of twins, just like you two.” She said, looking at the pair in front of her.
“How do you know its true, though, Grandma?” the eldest asked, head cocked to the side curiously.
“Because, my great-grandmother was the daughter of Aylen and Korin, and she always told me stories, just like I do with you. Their story lives on in our hearts, you know.” The children at her feet had looks of awe in their eyes. The twins, Nissa and
A picture hung over the fireplace, a family: smiling; parents, the heroes of the story that had just been told, and their children. A pair of twins; much like those beneath the painting; ranged around their mother, ten years old. An older boy, fourteen or fifteen, stood next to his father. And a baby girl, still in her mother’s lap at the time, smiled cherubically.
Hope you liked it, thats the end.