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You look at him and think to yourself, how did I get so lucky? He has that smile that simply brightens up the room. And you’re not even the only one who feels that way. You know that your closest mate, Merlin, also sees the younger man like he exudes happiness that simply make other people happy, too. Lancelot—Roxy—tends to brighten up the moment he enters the room, and you know that she has no romantic feelings for him. He’s simply this big ball of life and happiness, despite every hardship he has had in life, simply a man who wants other people to be happy.
His energy sometimes makes you feel like it gives you life. The other agents seem to think so as well, because they love being around him. You’re old, and you know it. You’re old enough to be his father, you are very much aware of that, and yet here he is, loving you with all his heart. He can simply sense when you are having doubts, and then he would take your hand with a smile and make you do the most outrageous things, making you laugh and fill you with life.
His eyes, though they may not be the colours of the rainbow, look like they have three different colours; grey, green and blue. Heterochromania. You remember reading somewhere. Different coloured eyes or irises themselves. But, god, they are truly beautiful. The way they light up when he’s happy and excited, the way they seem to soften when he thinks you are not looking as he stares at you or when he’s looking at his younger sister. Even when they are cold and calculating when you have no choice but to go on a mission together, they make your heart skip a beat. But your favourite is when you have just finished making love, and he’s vulnerable, unguarded, and those eyes show so much love that you can hardly breathe sometimes. That there occasions that you feel like you don’t deserve the amount of love he gives you and will continue to give you.
You love the way he pushes all of the furniture in your (yours and his) living room, despite all of your protests because it tends to leave scuff marks sometimes, and it can be difficult to put everything back in actual order, and then he’ll plug his iPod to its speaker and soft music will start playing. He will give you a shy smile, do a little curtsey, then he’ll take your right hand and put your arm around him as he places his left on your shoulder, his right hand would proceed to take yours—your hand facing upwards, cupping his own—and raise it to chest level. Then, as time passes, he’ll wrap your left arm around him, too, move closer to you, chest to chest and let his own arms wrap around your neck. He’ll lay his cheek by your chest, since he’s a little bit shorter. But sometimes, he would remove his slippers and gently step on feet on tip toes and let you sway your bodies around. Those are some of the moments you love most, because you know he’s safe in your arms. You feel invincible during those times, somehow.
You love how he still has that medallion you gave him all those years ago in a chain around his neck. He doesn’t take it off unless he’s going to bed, will be taking a shower, or he absolutely has to. Sometimes, you think you see him staring at that thing with a soft smile on his face, or you’d catch him rubbing his thumb on it absentmindedly when he feels trapped. When you finally got the courage to ask him about it, he smiled at you and said, “it’s ‘cuz this one’s the very first thing you ever gave me.” you remember being speechless at the time, and then he added shyly, “An’ I wouldn’t have you without this.” Since then, you start smiling softly as well whenever you catch him staring at it or rubbing it with his thumb.
You love lying on the sofa while watching the telly with him—you on your back with him lying on your chest. You love the feel of his body on top of you whenever you both simply want to have each other’s presence. Sometimes the two of you simply want to lie down and talk, and the sofa has always been large enough for both of you but still narrow enough that you have to squeeze in the sofa. He loves playing with your hands, your fingers, during those moments, especially when work happens to slip into the conversation.
Sometimes, he takes pictures of the two of you lying on that sofa, sometimes even on bed, right after waking up in the morning. You realized how much he loves taking photographs of you (and both of you together) when accidentally got into his phone’s photo gallery. After that, you take more notice of him taking photos. He seems to really enjoy it. When you asked him why he takes a lot of photos, he simply shrugged with a smile and said, “So I can always go back in the moment.” You started to take your own photographs of him since then.
You love the way he makes odd faces for his little sister. It always amuses you how he can make those faces and how odd they look on his face. But it never fails to make his sister laugh that high pitched, loud little giggle, so you let it slide. Sometimes, you find yourself holding your phone, recording these little moments. You tell yourself that it’s for blackmail purposes, but in truth, you pull out those videos and watch them over and over when you are not together.
You love the way he imitates your accent when he’s on missions that require him to sound quite posh, like he was born in the upper class society. It amazes you how he can easily shed away Eggsy and replace it with Gary (or Lamorak, as he has been knighted with, or any other name that he would be using). It sounds nice and soothing, for some odd reason. But you know you would never trade his own Cockney accent for anything.
You love the way he curls up at night when you get home late from work, and then uncurls to let you fit against him when you get in bed with him. It’s not always conscious, most times he’s already asleep, but his body is so attuned to yours that it knows when you’re there to curl up to. Sometimes he’ll even roll right on top of you and just wrap his arms tightly around you, as if he’s afraid that you would somehow disappear.
(You know it’s something his body developed after you got back from Kentucky, from, well, basically death.)
But not everything’s perfect in your relationship. During the whole first year, there were a lot of fights, that you can’t help but think, this is it. He’ll realise he deserves someone better. But then the two of you will just fall back together, like two magnetic poles that can’t help but attract each other. It’s funny sometimes, that you felt like you were never meant to be together, yet you can’t go on without the other so you just pull each other in again. Most of your fights back then were about the age difference, sometimes even about Michelle, because she can’t accept the fact that her son is dating you, an older gentleman. Now, your fights are just little arguments about who will wash the dishes, who will do the laundry, who would turn the radio off, and so forth. Michelle has gradually accepted your relationship with her son. It helps that his little sister loves you as well.
But what hate about your perfectly imperfect relationship is the large amount of danger he is always in. True, he gets long breaks because every agent needs a large cool down after every assignment, but sometimes, it can’t be helped that things will go to hell, that the plan will go to shit because there were factors that were not considered.
And that is why you are currently in the medical wing of the Kingsman HQ, sitting by his bedside as you wait for him to wake up. He has been asleep for almost four days now, but was awake for a short while the night before. When he came back to you after that failed mission, and you were sure that he will be okay, you went to the shop where you have been having a ring made to pick it up. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way, but it’ll have to do.
There are more bouts of consciousness now and again, so you decided to simply slide the ring on his finger. You’re confident he wouldn’t say no anyway.
As you sit there, staring blankly on the floor, telling him one of the stories about when you were just a Kingsman candidate, you hear a soft, “’Arry” mumbled from Eggsy’s general vicinity, your head snaps up to look at him. You know you should probably call for a doctor or a nurse, but your minds too focused on the sight of Eggsy awake and softly smiling at you. You exhale his name, your smile a little bit shaky your sight a little bit blurry, but you don’t care. He’s awake. He’s awake!
You take his hand in yours, raises it to your lips, kissing his knuckles softly. For someone who has just woken up, he’s quite observant and notices the ring on his finger. He smirks, albeit not as wide as it usually is, and says, “Confident, ain’t ya?”
You snort softly, keeping your lips on his hand and say, “I always am.”
Merlin scolds you for not calling the doctors sooner.