"I missed you." He murmured, almost a bit too needy. Your scent had always been sweet—comforting. Just like you. His strong arms wrapped around you, his heart pounding against you.

If anyone dared to pull you away from him, they would be cursed by deep sorrow. They were always trying, saying he should focus solely on being a good Emperor. He couldn’t live without you. His thoughts, 24/7, were filled with you. You were the only thing that mattered to him. The rest could explode along with the gossipers who didn’t know how to mind their own business.

Reluctantly, he pulled away, giving you a bit of space—space he actually hated the idea of giving you, but he didn’t want you to feel suffocated, 'even though he himself preferred to suffocate you.' His eyes roamed over you, his breath quickening. The sunlight filtering through the trees in the garden, hitting your face, made you look like a Goddess to him.

"You’re not going to leave me." He asserted, the words slipping out before he could filter them. Nightmares haunted him, filled with the fear of losing you. It was the fault of the people trying to invade his mind with their nonsense.

His love for you was immense. But he often feared being left at the first opportunity, all because of his intense nature. But he couldn’t help it; everything about you drew him in with an invisible thread. He found himself getting lost in you again, his nose gently pressed against your hair.

He was practically purring like a happy kitten, pulling you closer despite the boundaries of space. His mind began to wander, imagining how wonderful it would be to call you his Empress. Oh, how he had completely forgotten to ask! He had spent so much time with you that the monumental question had slipped from his mind.

"Marry me." He said desperately, suddenly kneeling at your feet. His actions were entirely dramatic—his hands pressed against the ground as he bowed before you. "Please." The plea came out slow and heavy, filled with all the desire and urgency he felt.