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Fiancée

By lackingwit

Romance

Fiancée

No one has these two, and I love them together. Here goes!

Rocky watchs as the sun burned outside the windows. The bright orange glares too, only it was flinching, sinking into the earth like a coin into the piggybank. She lets her long legs dangle over the balcony and leans back into the strong chest that supports her.

After middle school, after he turned fifteen, he had turned…normal. Not normal, because with that accent that deepened into a deep, thick, chocolate-coated harmony could not be described as "normal." He had sweetened and become his own person, growing off from his twin as she did the same. He had made friends with Ty and therefore hung out at her house a lot. Ty had gotten sick one day when the blonde had come over and Rocky had be forced to hang out with him because CeCe was getting tutored.

And that's how she was now resting in Günter's strong, reliable arms. Rocky wasn't a fan of blondies, but on Günter…goddamn, it was fine! It was nice and highlighted and low-lighted and just amazing. She leans farther into Günter's well-muscled arms. His warm heart beats against her back and she sighs at the feeling.

The sun finally slips into the earth; Rocky swings her legs, long and tan, over the railing. Günter helps her get off of the pale, white balustrade. He gives his girlfriend—his fiancée—kiss on the cheek and wraps an arm around her thin waist.

"So," Rocky says, her brown eyes serious and her pinkish lips set strait, "we're really doing this, aren't we?" Her voice is slathered in doubt. Are they doing this? Are they going through with it? Sure, people in Günter's family—in country—get married at ages at early as fourteen, and sure they are nineteen…but… It is exciting and scary all at once.

Günter's bluish greenish eyes shine brilliantly at the question. He can hear the excitement and the hesitation in his chocolate danish's sweet voice. He loves that caution that pops up when CeCe turns rebellious or when she doubts herself. He knows that she doesn't doubt herself, per se, but rather what the people will think, what will become of them, what will support them. He doesn't honestly mind this, considering that when he asked her yesterday, her immediate answer had been yes, no hesitation or dithering whatsoever. "Yes, bay-be," he laughed, using his accented baby—the one that melted Rocky at the knees—to clear away all her doubts, "we are doing this. You shall milk the goats with the best of them!"

Rocky laughs. " 'I shall milk the goats with the best of them'? Explain yourself, Günter."

The brunette lets herself be walked into her future husband's bedroom. Inside, Günter's BeTwinkler rests next to one of Fluffy's kittens' bed. Blue beads cover the little cat's bed that the Hessenheffer had given his bride as a present. Rocky hadn't been allowed to have pets in her house and so Günter had let the cat in his room. The BeTwinkler, long underused, had been worked overtime when Rocky had gotten her hands on it. She isn't a big fan of sparkly things, but she was curious! And it was fun. A lot of fun. The kitten, which Rocky had dubbed Miss Sharpness for her skin-slicing nails, is nowhere to be found. Beside the cat-bed, Günter's king-size bed, clad in the blonde's favorite color, a blue so dark it could be mistaken for black, sits. The walls are a light navy blue and the balcony curtains are the same color as the sheets on his bed.

Günter smiles his heart-melting smile. "You shall be a great wife," he translates. Günter's big hands sit his Rocky on his feather-made bed. He sits next to her, nibbling on her ear. Rocky laughs. "Ty and Tinka left for the night—I do believe Tinka said something of resting at the Blue abode. Mumzy and Poppa are out for the evening, at the Three Nights' Bazaar. What do you want to do, my little rock?"

Rocky gives a nervous, squeaky, happy giggle as Günter whispered duskily into her ear. That 'henheehee' gives the husband-to-be a shiver of pride. The blonde blows on her ear. "How about we watch that German movie you love? The one with the scary English voiceovers?" she says, a happy groan hidden under her throat. Her brown eyes flash to the eighty-inch plasma TV suspended above the double doors to the room and the DVD-player attached to it on the side. Günter bites gently on her ear and puts in the DVD, Das Ungeborene.

Günter crawls onto the bed above, forcing Rocky to lie down, her arms supporting her. The TV screen behind him gives Günter a green halo as the warnings come to the screen. "Du bist so hübsch, Rocky von mir," he murmurs, lowering his mouth onto Rocky's tan skin. "You are so pretty, Rocky of mine." Rocky giggles; Günter runs his tongue over her bronze neck.

"Henheehee," Rocky laughs, "you're a horny little German, aren't you?" Günter responds by biting down on the junction of her shoulder. "Well too bad," the Blue says, trying to lift the boy off her, "I'm pure until next year."

Günter licks over the wound he has caused. "Just a quicky," he asks, sounding like a sexy lost puppy with a German accent. "Just one, bay-be?" he questions again.

Rocky pushes him off her and he lands beside her on the bed. She rests her head on his strong abs. "No. Let's watch the movie."

"Ja, bay-be," he sighs. "I love you." The movie starts with the sound of his voice.

"I love you more Günter," Rocky says, snuggling into his chest. Seconds later, she's asleep on him. Günter smiles at her, lifts the sheets from their feet and covers her. This was his fiancée. This was Rocky—the best friend of the girl he thought he loved; the girl that made him smile when Fluffy died; the sister of his best friend; the girl with the molten chocolate eyes; the love of his life, who he would be with for the rest of it. The girl who had said yes—against all odds.

This was the soon-to-be Rockelle Hessenheffer.

Günter pulls the girl closer and closes his eyes as Das Ungeborene's opening credits were introduced. His life—including being rich, dance-talented, and handsome—has never been more perfect.

I love these two. R&R!

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