[For a long moment, Mikleo can only stare, his gaze shifting from Sorey's expression to the offered hand. It's easier to swallow with Sorey at eye level, rather than kneeling so ridiculously; it's a custom he recognizes, sure, but not something they grew up on, so it had made it easier to presume it to be a joke. When Sorey rises, sits before him and looks at him properly, face to face, any excuse Mikleo might have considered moments ago slips through his fingers, banished from his mind. He can't pretend this is just another way for them to tease one another. He can't brush it off like it's meaningless.
More than anything else he can't lie and say he hasn't thought about this, over and over, for years now. Not a proposal, not getting married or anything so formal, but spending his life with Sorey, walking by his side every day, sharing countless memories with one another... that's something he'd decided long ago. That was his dream.
As long as you both shall live, was the saying, wasn't it? He remembers. Sorey had gotten it from one of the more traditional romance novels, reading the vows aloud by candlelight one evening. They were pretty, but so fixed on health and wealth and mortality that Mikleo hadn't thought much of them. It hadn't been important. It was the human method, so material and unfamiliar to he who was raised by his fellow seraphim. That's not for us.
And here, now, Sorey's echoing what he's felt in his heart all this time, and there's no joke, not even a hint of playfulness in his eyes.
Quietly Mikleo reaches out, closing the distance between them, and takes his hand.]
F... fine. If that's what you're asking, then my answer is yes.
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More than anything else he can't lie and say he hasn't thought about this, over and over, for years now. Not a proposal, not getting married or anything so formal, but spending his life with Sorey, walking by his side every day, sharing countless memories with one another... that's something he'd decided long ago. That was his dream.
As long as you both shall live, was the saying, wasn't it? He remembers. Sorey had gotten it from one of the more traditional romance novels, reading the vows aloud by candlelight one evening. They were pretty, but so fixed on health and wealth and mortality that Mikleo hadn't thought much of them. It hadn't been important. It was the human method, so material and unfamiliar to he who was raised by his fellow seraphim. That's not for us.
And here, now, Sorey's echoing what he's felt in his heart all this time, and there's no joke, not even a hint of playfulness in his eyes.
Quietly Mikleo reaches out, closing the distance between them, and takes his hand.]
F... fine. If that's what you're asking, then my answer is yes.