Soledad-Vega Residence
February 25xx
8:43 PM
Even in marriage, planning the perfect surprise
for his now-wife proved to be a challenge. Drake chewed his lip nervously as he
buttoned up his shirt, eyes sweeping across his closet for the one good article
of clothing he had. He hadn’t expected them to not spend so
much time together despite their marriage, to be honest. Drake expected for
them to float happily, waking up tangled in cold sheets and kissing each
other’s noses while whispering “good morning”.
…but that didn’t quite happen, not really.
The two of them were still frequently called on missions alongside James and
Carina, paired together, or during the rare times, totally alone. Drake thought
that they’d be able to bond more, as James and Carina had assured him that they
would, even post-honeymoon.
Even with that assurance, Drake wasn’t
totally sure if all of that was true. And frankly, he was fed up with having to
settle with waking up to an empty bed half of the time. (He wasn’t angry, no.
He couldn’t be angry at Lyra.)
So he put his foot down one day and decided
to properly ask his wife for some time together, even if it were for at least
one single evening.
Exhaling, the blond left the room after
making sure that his clothes were, if anything, perfect. Nothing had to be
half-assed that evening.
The moment he
heard confirmation of Lyra’s car pulling up to the driveway, Drake looked up
and walked to the front door, wanting to catch her as she walked in. He
recounted everything else in his head; the food was already there, the
tableware set, he had lit a candle or two of Lyra’s favorite scent (rain,
definitely), and he was looking at least an eight over ten.
“Sorry I’m late,
I had to stop by and meet my— Drake?” Lyra started, stopping upon seeing him
there all dressed up and smelling the scent of rain in their house. “Drake,
what’s…what’s going on?” she asked carefully, letting her husband strip her of
her coat and hang it by the door. “Drake?”
“Listen,” he
said, taking her hands into his. Drake looked at her with an earnest
expression, “I miss you. I miss spending evenings with you and basically
spending time with you.” Her cheeks turned pink, “It’s a little sad that we
don’t get to spend as much time with each other, even if we’re…you know,
married.” He admitted, letting his finger run over her ring finger. His wife’s
expression fell.
“Oh…I’m sorry,”
she spoke quietly. “I didn’t know, I…” shushing her at that, Drake embraced her
tightly and kissed the top of her head. Neither of them said anything for a
moment, the two of them merely standing in the middle of the hall with the
scent of rain around them. Lyra heard the faint sound of music playing on his
speakers. “…did you prepare this while I was out?”
“I might have,” he
admitted with a small smile. “Car told me you’d be busy, so. I decided to cook
up something special. Quite literally,” he joked, earning a smile from her. At
that, Drake tugged at her hand gently and led her to the dining room, where
freshly prepared food was waiting on the table. “I’m starting, sweetheart. If
you came any later, you’d be eating leftovers,” he teased. She made a face and
he immediately pulled out a chair, sitting her down. Lyra shifted in her seat,
setting her bag on the ground and looking at the choices in front of her.
“Salad, alfredo,
seafood, and a suspicious looking cake that looks like it came from my favorite
bakery,” she mused. Lyra saw Drake’s ears flush at the last one and an amused
smirk came to her lips. Drake sat down eventually with a bottle of red wine,
“Where’d you get the time to prepare all of this?”
“Okay, I give.
James offered to buy the cake for me,” he admitted, opening the bottle and
pouring them both wine. “After Car told him what I was up to. The salad didn’t
take long, obviously, but the alfredo and seafood took a bit to perfect.”
“Your cooking’s
always perfect,” she assured, and Drake managed a shrug as he gave her the
glass.
“Not always, Ly.
Anyway – I just wanted to make this evening great for the both of us, you know.
Worthy of your time since we’re almost always out.” Lyra grew silent once
again, staring into the glass of red wine she had.
“…you always do,
you know.” Drake gave a tiny smile at that. “Really. All of this…I appreciate
it. Even if there’s cheesy classical music in the background,” she teased, and
the blond grinned her way.
“I do my best.”
he lifted his glass to her and so did she, the pair gently toasting. “To a good
evening.”
“To a good
evening,” she agreed.
* * * * *
They talked over
dinner. They talked about Lyra’s family over servings of salad, talked about
plans to further decorate the house while feeding each other pasta. The two
eventually ended up sitting next to each other instead of across, with Lyra’s
legs draped over Drake’s lap and the male playfully feeding her whatever he
could. She had definitely let loose more as dinner went on, the wine having
settled her into a much more relaxed mood.
Drake noticed and
decided to keep quiet about it. Lyra relaxing was something he didn’t quite see
often, and he decided to indulge in it with her. Smiling, the male gently held
forked pasta to her lips, she complying and taking a bite. Upon swallowing, she
said, “I envy your cooking skills.”
“Maybe I can
teach you this weekend?” he offered. She nodded and picked up her spoon,
pushing it towards his lips. Drake took a bite and she managed a snort at the
sight of sauce on the corner of his mouth. “What’s so funny?” Lyra said
nothing, only picking up her napkin and wiping it off with ease, downing the
remaining wine in her glass after.
“You’re really
great,“ she murmured. “You’re a really great husband, and I…I wish I was here
more often. You’re right. We need to spend more time together.” Drake remained
quiet as Lyra said all of that, eventually setting her legs down to stand up
and pull her up as well. She blinked as Drake pulled her to the living room,
watching as he fumbled with his phone to press something.
The song changed,
going from a lighthearted classical tune to something slower, tenderer. Another
press of a button and the lights faded considerably, and she couldn’t help but
poke his nose at his cheesy antics. “Cheesy,” she chided, and Drake took her
hands once again, one of her own resting on his shoulder and the other still holding
his.
She felt his
other hand rest on her hip and the two stood in the middle of the room, staring
at each other until Drake raised a brow. “Fancy a dance?”
“You better
lead.”
And he did.
He led as they
danced, and it somehow felt like their wedding again, with both of them dancing
in the middle and Lyra in her dress, Drake spinning her with that big smile on
his face. They eventually ended up stumbling into the couch, laughing with her
arms on his shoulders and their faces inches away. They couldn’t hear the music
and just looked at each other, cheeks flushed and smiles on their faces.
“I miss you, Ly,”
Drake murmured. “I really, really miss having you around. And it’s weird
because…well, we’re married.” She gave a small nod and he let his hands fall to
her sides. “…can we at least spend this night together?”
She nodded and
tightened her grip slightly on his shoulders. “Please.”
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