I’m not asking for a fairy tale.
Not the pumpkin. Not the dress. But I expect that both of us are going to show up to this thing like gladiators. With shields. And swords. And cool armor. And all the things it would take to fight for one another, over & over & over again. You, my dear, are already my favorite thing to fight for. Did you know that? I don’t even need to know the color of your eyes or the quirk in your laugh to know I’m going to fight for you like crazy.