𝓐𝓷𝓷𝓪. ✟ ~ 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒮𝒾𝓇𝑒𝓃.

Mal reached into his pocket, giving each worker their pay, plus a generous tip of a few extra shillings. His back was turned before they could thank him, his focus on Anna and the painting, his arm snug around her waist in much the same manner. "You look exceptional."

"You'd love that, wouldn't you?", he smirked. "Sooner avoid it if it's all the same, I've seen how your man handles a weapon. Ex soldier an' that...true it wouldn't kill me, but it still wouldn't feel very bloody nice."

He said he'd drink me under the table! What was I s'posed to do, let him? Back in the day, you challenge a man like that an' it'd be pistols at dawn.

He looks at the photo with a grin and a groan, feeling a flush of nostalgia and just a touch of embarrassment. Jesus, how smashed were we...

“You both look magical.”

Happy resurrection day, beloved

“I guess my dilemma is different. After living for too long I keep feeling like...there's threads of my old life I can't remember. Like they're slipping away.” He mused but wasn't even troubles by this.

Sometimes he remembers what it felt like being alive.