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It was about nine in the evening and we just tucked Ara into bed. My wife stepped out of the shower, her hair damp and smelling of jasmine. She’s wrapped in a white towel – always so modest, if you ask me. Even after five years of marriage, she won’t come out of the shower naked, unless we were in it together.
I sit at the corner of our bed fixing my cuffs, and she walks past me to the closet to choose what to wear. I smile as I catch a whiff of her lovely smell.
“What color are your cufflinks?” she asks absentmindedly.
“Green,” I answer.
She laughs, her voice sounding like wind chimes. “Of course.”
I watch her as she takes her time picking out random clothes, humming tunelessly to a song she heard during dinner. Her skin glistens by the light of the fireplace, her freckles dotting her shoulders ever so lightly. Freckles that I know all too well.
Her eyes light up when she found the perfect shade of green dress to match my cufflinks.
“Ah, yes, this is it.”
She steps back in the bathroom, picking up her wand along the way. She mumbles “Asciugarsi!” and taps her wand on her hair, drying it instantly. I stand up and watch her from the doorway as she meticulously brushes her hair and then coifs it into gentle curls. She puts on her make-up and when she seems satisfied, turns to face me.
“Do get that dress,” she says, pointing at a simple, emerald green halter dress. I walk across the room to get it and then give it to her. She gives me a small smile and mutters a word of thanks before closing the bathroom door.
I sit again at the edge of the bed and notice our wedding photo, laughing inwardly. She was smiling impishly but her eyes were glistening with tears while I on the other hand had a rather smug look on my face. She kept on waving and drying her tears; I was sulking in the background with a hand in my pocket, the other intertwined with hers. Once or twice I would catch my photographic-self looking at her adoringly – but only for a flicker of a second. I reserve that sappy, special look for when she’s not looking, or at least when no one else is looking.
The other photo beside it was one with our little daughter taken a month or two ago. Ara kept running back and forth while my wife just laughed and smiled, sitting on the grass, her head resting lightly on my shoulders. I just smile at them, sometimes even grin.
She finally steps out of the bathroom, and twirls around. She looks at me shyly, shifting from one foot to the other.
“Do I look all right?” she asks, smoothing her dress.
And I say, “Yes, you look wonderful tonight.”
She gives me a small smile, and then returns in the bathroom. “Are you sure it’s all right? The dress I mean?” she asks again, struggling to wear her stud gold earrings this time.
I roll my eyes. “Everything looks good on you.”
She pouts and sticks her tongue out at me. I laugh and join her inside the bathroom. I look at her from the mirror but she’s busy fixing her earrings. She looks up and asks again, “Are you sure? It feels like I’m underdressed…”
“I like it when you’re underdressed. Or rather, during the state of undress.”
She smacks me hard on my arm. I wince slightly and clutch on to it for dear life. This time she rolls her eyes.
“Oh, stop being such a drama king.”
“But it does hurt! People might think I’m an abused husband you know,” I say matter-of-factly.
She laughs heartily. “Well, that’s a risk we’ll have to take, now won’t we, Mr. Malfoy.”
I turn sideways to kiss her temple. “I think we do, Mrs. Malfoy.” Merlin, how I love to hear that.
She hugs me at this point and we stay still for a while. “Are you sure that I look all right?” She asks again, looking up at me.
And I say, “Yes, you look wonderful tonight.”
We arrive at the Ministry Christmas party. She turns heads as always, and she holds my hand, not wanting to let go. She smiles and waves at some of the people she knows. I bow my head in acknowledgment to my own acquaintances. She still holds my hand.
After greeting some people she tiptoes to whisper in my ear asking, “Do you feel all right?”
And I say, “Yes, I feel wonderful tonight.”
A slow song plays in the background. Couples start to flock to the dance floor.
“Dance with me,” I say. She nods and I place one hand on her waist, she rests her head on my chest, my chin resting on top of her head. We still hold hands.
I feel wonderful because I see
The love light in your eyes.
And the wonder of it all
Is that you just don't realize how much I love you.
The song stops after a while, a fast tune follows, but we keep on dancing to the previous one.
It’s after the party and my head aches. We decide to take a detour first before going home. Hand in hand we walk through the streets, her heels getting caught once or twice in the cobbled stones.
“Bloody hell! I give up!” She shakes her head and makes a run to the nearest bench.
“Had enough of the heels?” I chuckle and sit down beside her. She grumbles in defiance and kicks off her shoes. She rubs her heels and look at me. If looks could kill, I would have been dead long ago.
“I don’t even know why you thought that funny. You try wearing them!” She picks her shoes up and waves them in front of my face.
“Come on!”
I raised my eyebrow at her. “You don’t expect a Malfoy male to wear those now do you?” I smirk, the trademark Malfoy smirk that makes her knees weak.
“Hah, I thought so. Couldn’t wear heels if your life depended on it,” she smirks right back, exactly the way I just did.
I start laughing loudly. She looks at me quizzically. “I guess some of my facial expressions are starting rub off on you.” She scoots over, closing the tiny gap we have between us, her face inches from mine.
“I guess so.” She kisses me softly on the lips. I oblige and kiss her back. She tastes faintly of white wine and chocolates. I pull her in deeply, my hands in tangled in her hair, hers tangled in mine. My knees go weak when we hear a gruff voice clearing its throat.
“Ehem. Time to break it up kids.”
We pull away slowly and look at the intruder. She looks apologetic, while I on the other hand look defiant. Someone had to break up a private moment.
The man looks down at us, his moustache twitching slightly. A policeman I think is what he’s called.
“Sorry. I guess we’d better get going then?” She grins sheepishly.
I sigh and look at the policeman. “Yes, we should.”
He nods goodnight and leaves us again on the bench. We wait for the man to turn the corner then we Apparate home.
We arrive home and sneak in Ara’s room to check on her. We tiptoe so we won’t wake her up. Her eyelashes flutter for the merest of seconds before she turns to her side.
I stand near the doorway and watch as Ginny kneels down to stroke Ara’s strawberry blond hair before kissing her temple. Ara shifts for a bit before rubbing her eyes open.
“Mum?” she asks groggily, her grey eyes shining in the darkness.
“Sorry we woke you.” She said in a whispered voice.
“Daddy.” She smiles at me and sits up gingerly. I walk towards her bed and sit at the edge. She scrambles into my arms, all three years of her. I hug her tightly and rock her back to sleep. She nuzzles her head against me and it isn’t long before she starts snoring softly. Ginny laughs and motions me to settle her back into bed. I shake my head no, “Not yet. Not yet.”
She nods and sits beside me, resting her head on my shoulders. This, I say to myself, is heaven.
It took a while before we tucked Ara back in. My head starts to ache then and she helps me to bed. She takes off her dress to slip into one of my shirts. She lies beside me and closes her eyes. I kiss her nose and wrap my arms around her. A comfortable silence fills the room. The crackle of the fireplace and the tick-tock of the clock I can hear. It isn’t long before I finally feel her chest rise and fall deeply. I smile in her hair, her hair that still smells of jasmine.
My breathing starts to even out, too, and as I drift off to sleep I murmur, “Darling, you were wonderful tonight. Oh, my darling…you were wonderful tonight.”
I sit at the corner of our bed fixing my cuffs, and she walks past me to the closet to choose what to wear. I smile as I catch a whiff of her lovely smell.
“What color are your cufflinks?” she asks absentmindedly.
“Green,” I answer.
She laughs, her voice sounding like wind chimes. “Of course.”
I watch her as she takes her time picking out random clothes, humming tunelessly to a song she heard during dinner. Her skin glistens by the light of the fireplace, her freckles dotting her shoulders ever so lightly. Freckles that I know all too well.
Her eyes light up when she found the perfect shade of green dress to match my cufflinks.
“Ah, yes, this is it.”
She steps back in the bathroom, picking up her wand along the way. She mumbles “Asciugarsi!” and taps her wand on her hair, drying it instantly. I stand up and watch her from the doorway as she meticulously brushes her hair and then coifs it into gentle curls. She puts on her make-up and when she seems satisfied, turns to face me.
“Do get that dress,” she says, pointing at a simple, emerald green halter dress. I walk across the room to get it and then give it to her. She gives me a small smile and mutters a word of thanks before closing the bathroom door.
I sit again at the edge of the bed and notice our wedding photo, laughing inwardly. She was smiling impishly but her eyes were glistening with tears while I on the other hand had a rather smug look on my face. She kept on waving and drying her tears; I was sulking in the background with a hand in my pocket, the other intertwined with hers. Once or twice I would catch my photographic-self looking at her adoringly – but only for a flicker of a second. I reserve that sappy, special look for when she’s not looking, or at least when no one else is looking.
The other photo beside it was one with our little daughter taken a month or two ago. Ara kept running back and forth while my wife just laughed and smiled, sitting on the grass, her head resting lightly on my shoulders. I just smile at them, sometimes even grin.
She finally steps out of the bathroom, and twirls around. She looks at me shyly, shifting from one foot to the other.
“Do I look all right?” she asks, smoothing her dress.
And I say, “Yes, you look wonderful tonight.”
She gives me a small smile, and then returns in the bathroom. “Are you sure it’s all right? The dress I mean?” she asks again, struggling to wear her stud gold earrings this time.
I roll my eyes. “Everything looks good on you.”
She pouts and sticks her tongue out at me. I laugh and join her inside the bathroom. I look at her from the mirror but she’s busy fixing her earrings. She looks up and asks again, “Are you sure? It feels like I’m underdressed…”
“I like it when you’re underdressed. Or rather, during the state of undress.”
She smacks me hard on my arm. I wince slightly and clutch on to it for dear life. This time she rolls her eyes.
“Oh, stop being such a drama king.”
“But it does hurt! People might think I’m an abused husband you know,” I say matter-of-factly.
She laughs heartily. “Well, that’s a risk we’ll have to take, now won’t we, Mr. Malfoy.”
I turn sideways to kiss her temple. “I think we do, Mrs. Malfoy.” Merlin, how I love to hear that.
She hugs me at this point and we stay still for a while. “Are you sure that I look all right?” She asks again, looking up at me.
And I say, “Yes, you look wonderful tonight.”
We arrive at the Ministry Christmas party. She turns heads as always, and she holds my hand, not wanting to let go. She smiles and waves at some of the people she knows. I bow my head in acknowledgment to my own acquaintances. She still holds my hand.
After greeting some people she tiptoes to whisper in my ear asking, “Do you feel all right?”
And I say, “Yes, I feel wonderful tonight.”
A slow song plays in the background. Couples start to flock to the dance floor.
“Dance with me,” I say. She nods and I place one hand on her waist, she rests her head on my chest, my chin resting on top of her head. We still hold hands.
I feel wonderful because I see
The love light in your eyes.
And the wonder of it all
Is that you just don't realize how much I love you.
The song stops after a while, a fast tune follows, but we keep on dancing to the previous one.
It’s after the party and my head aches. We decide to take a detour first before going home. Hand in hand we walk through the streets, her heels getting caught once or twice in the cobbled stones.
“Bloody hell! I give up!” She shakes her head and makes a run to the nearest bench.
“Had enough of the heels?” I chuckle and sit down beside her. She grumbles in defiance and kicks off her shoes. She rubs her heels and look at me. If looks could kill, I would have been dead long ago.
“I don’t even know why you thought that funny. You try wearing them!” She picks her shoes up and waves them in front of my face.
“Come on!”
I raised my eyebrow at her. “You don’t expect a Malfoy male to wear those now do you?” I smirk, the trademark Malfoy smirk that makes her knees weak.
“Hah, I thought so. Couldn’t wear heels if your life depended on it,” she smirks right back, exactly the way I just did.
I start laughing loudly. She looks at me quizzically. “I guess some of my facial expressions are starting rub off on you.” She scoots over, closing the tiny gap we have between us, her face inches from mine.
“I guess so.” She kisses me softly on the lips. I oblige and kiss her back. She tastes faintly of white wine and chocolates. I pull her in deeply, my hands in tangled in her hair, hers tangled in mine. My knees go weak when we hear a gruff voice clearing its throat.
“Ehem. Time to break it up kids.”
We pull away slowly and look at the intruder. She looks apologetic, while I on the other hand look defiant. Someone had to break up a private moment.
The man looks down at us, his moustache twitching slightly. A policeman I think is what he’s called.
“Sorry. I guess we’d better get going then?” She grins sheepishly.
I sigh and look at the policeman. “Yes, we should.”
He nods goodnight and leaves us again on the bench. We wait for the man to turn the corner then we Apparate home.
We arrive home and sneak in Ara’s room to check on her. We tiptoe so we won’t wake her up. Her eyelashes flutter for the merest of seconds before she turns to her side.
I stand near the doorway and watch as Ginny kneels down to stroke Ara’s strawberry blond hair before kissing her temple. Ara shifts for a bit before rubbing her eyes open.
“Mum?” she asks groggily, her grey eyes shining in the darkness.
“Sorry we woke you.” She said in a whispered voice.
“Daddy.” She smiles at me and sits up gingerly. I walk towards her bed and sit at the edge. She scrambles into my arms, all three years of her. I hug her tightly and rock her back to sleep. She nuzzles her head against me and it isn’t long before she starts snoring softly. Ginny laughs and motions me to settle her back into bed. I shake my head no, “Not yet. Not yet.”
She nods and sits beside me, resting her head on my shoulders. This, I say to myself, is heaven.
It took a while before we tucked Ara back in. My head starts to ache then and she helps me to bed. She takes off her dress to slip into one of my shirts. She lies beside me and closes her eyes. I kiss her nose and wrap my arms around her. A comfortable silence fills the room. The crackle of the fireplace and the tick-tock of the clock I can hear. It isn’t long before I finally feel her chest rise and fall deeply. I smile in her hair, her hair that still smells of jasmine.
My breathing starts to even out, too, and as I drift off to sleep I murmur, “Darling, you were wonderful tonight. Oh, my darling…you were wonderful tonight.”
Author notes: I live for reviews. Please do!
The End.
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This story is a favorite of 4 members. Members who liked Wonderful Tonight also liked 1066 other stories.
This story is a favorite of 4 members. Members who liked Wonderful Tonight also liked 1066 other stories.
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