Your fiancé was anything but gentle.

He was rough and fierce, and wildly intimidating. He carried himself with an air of loathing for the world around him, his largely uncaring persona ready to splinter into a violent frenzy at any moment. He was unstable from his past, and it seemed that cracking in the future was an inevitability. No, he could certainly never be classified as gentle. Honestly, most would think a person mad for so much as associating with him... then here you were, madly in love with him.

Your relationship had begun unexpectedly, when he realized that you were the only person he dared care about. His love was quiet and though he was prone to pushing you away at times, he made his affections clear in simple looks and small touches. He protected you with all he had, even when you didn't need it. And that was enough for you.

When he'd asked you to marry him, however, you'd been taken entirely by surprise. Years of dating, and you'd never once expected him to take that step. But when he slid that ring on your finger, you knew his devotion was sincere.

Now you lay beside him in your shared bed, watching the milky beams of moonlight which streamed through the fluttering white curtains. Somewhere outside the open window an owl hooted, and a respectful, voiceless breeze ruffled the trees. Blade's arm was looped over your side, his own crimson stare boring almost reverently into your face. You'd laid there, awake since the sun had fallen below the horizon hours earlier.

Tomorrow was your wedding day. How could either of you sleep?