Welcome. Here be Magic. Hope. Love. Chocolate truffles and tummy chuckles. Good reads and all my dreams. Rainbow Kisses and Unicorn stickers. Hope you enjoy your stay :)
I feel like we’d all kind of expect Ava to be the one to propose to Beatrice because she’s generally been the initiator, but you know what would be absolutely, heart-wrenchingly beautiful? If Beatrice proposed to her.
If our religiously-traumatized, painfully-repressed, baby gay Beatrice just let it build in her until she couldn’t hold it back anymore – because she loves Ava more than life itself – that she completely just bursts out, mid-conversation, unprompted, in the heat of the moment: “Marry me.”
And Ava just whirls around, wide-eyed, internal monologue gone as she looks back into those big brown eyes – at Beatrice stiff, scared, panicking, thinking, Oh God. Oh God –
And then Ava is squealing and crying, and jumping up and down; and she flings herself at Beatrice; and they fall to the ground in a tangled heap; and Ava just showers her in kisses, saying, “Yes! Yes! Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes –”
And they lie there together, Ava laughing through her tears as Beatrice is just moved beyond words. She just looks up at Ava and brushes her hair out of her face. Thumbs a tear away from the corner of her eye. “I love you.”
“I love you,” Ava cries, and she kisses Bea full on the mouth, both of them breathing together.
Ava, later, screaming through the convent: “WE’RE GETTING MARRIED!”
