A/N: *sobs* OK, well here it is: the final chapter of the story. I really had a great time writing this and I am so thankful to everyone who supported this story. I'm working on some new stuff, so make sure to follow me or just be on the look out for that. Thank you guys for everything and enjoy the final chapter!

Epilogue Part Two

Oliver woke up to find Tommy sprawled out across the foot of his bed with an empty beer bottle in his hand. The mattress creaked as he crawled out of bed, shaking his head at Tommy's stiff figure. The wood was cold against his feet as he padded out of the room and down the hallway. Beer bottles filled to various points lined the stairs, making Oliver question just how many people had really been in his house the night before. Oliver picked up as many as he could carry, making his way into the kitchen.

Snoring came from the living room, and he didn't have to think twice about what it looked like in there. The bottles clanked together as he discarded them into a white trash bag. Oliver grabbed a rag, wiping down the sticky stains that splotched the granite counter-tops. There was movement in the kitchen archway, and he looked up to find Diggle standing there, arms crossed.

"Oliver, it's your wedding day. You shouldn't be cleaning."

"Well, Felicity shouldn't have to come home to a messy house," Oliver reasoned, continuing in his rough scrubbing.

Diggle stepped forward, setting his hands on the counter. "Let us take care of it. You didn't make this mess, and even if you did, last night was your night. You get a free pass on this one."

Oliver's lips curved slightly as he stopped his movements. Diggle took over the cleaning, Oliver lingering a few seconds to make sure he was OK with it. In all the time Oliver had known Diggle, he had never seen him clean. After everything Diggle had done for him, it was definitely a new sight. Oliver opened his fridge, taking out a bottle of water. He headed back up to his room, walking in to see Tommy sitting up, rubbing his face.

"Here," Oliver said, tossing the water bottle his way.

Clumsily, Tommy caught the bottle. He grunted in appreciation, breaking the seal and chugging some back. Oliver went into his bathroom, grinning at the sight in front of him. Hanging on the towel rod was his tuxedo. Everything was becoming so real, and he loved it.

The water was hot against his skin as he washed off yesterday. Soap gathered around his muscles, sliding down his body until it spun down the drain. He scrubbed his hair, thinking to himself that this was the last shower he would take as a man who wasn't married. When he got out, he dressed quickly. Downstairs, the guys were dressed as well, talking loudly to each other. They spotted Oliver and began clapping.

"There's the groom," Tommy introduced, slapping him on the back.

"Well, you guys look nice," Oliver observed, smiling smugly. "That's a first."

"Good to see you haven't lost your sense of humor," Floyd remarked, fixing the cuffs to his suit. "But just for the record, I always look nice."

"How does it feel knowing that in just a few hours, you'll be a married man?" Tommy asked.

"It feels pretty damn good, Tommy," Oliver answered, pulling out his phone to check the time. "We should probably start heading out. The minister has a few questions for me and I want to make sure everything is in order."

"OK, we'll all go in separate cars," Tommy decided. "Except for you, Roy. You can come with me."

"Thank you," Roy murmured, moving to stand beside Tommy.

Oliver smacked his hands together, glancing around the group. "Let's get going."

Everything was as it should be. The food was prepared, the staff was all present, the guests were early, and the overall set up looked amazing. Oliver almost couldn't believe they had pulled this off.

Now, he sat with his elbows on his knees, glancing at the clock on the wall every few seconds. His foot tapped against the rug, as he anxiously sighed. Tommy was the only other person in the room with him, and he paced around, rubbing his jaw.

"Look, Oliver, you're making me nervous," Tommy said, stopping right in front of him. "They're just doing some finishing touches."

"Sorry," Oliver muttered, standing up. "I'm just really nervous all of a sudden. And it's not a bad nervous. It's a good nervous. It's the kind of nervous I was when I asked Felicity to marry me."

"Regardless, you have nothing to be nervous about, man," Tommy assured.

And as if to back him up, Diggle opened the door and said the words Oliver had been waiting to hear ever since he went into that room.

"Oliver, they're ready for you out there."

He wasn't sure his feet had ever moved as quickly. It seemed like only a second passed from the moment he was sitting in that chair to the moment he was standing at the head of the main room. Tommy stood loyally by his side, rings held firmly in his hands. Everyone was in their correct seat, whispering until the moment to be quiet came.

And that moment came fast.

The familiar chords began to play out, filling the room and silencing the crowd. Oliver's body was stiff, throat tightening as his eyes bore holes into the door at the end of the aisle. The crowd rose to meet Felicity as she emerged from the door, bouquet clutched tightly in hand.

The breath was knocked right out of him. Oliver swore his heart stopped. He knew his mouth was hanging open. but how could it not be? She smiled at him as her feet guided her down the aisle. Each step she took was another clench around heart. Anything in that room that wasn't her disappeared. She was all he could see, and it didn't surprise him one bit.

Her hands reached his after she handed the bouquet over to Sara. The minister spoke and Oliver repeated when necessary. It all felt like a dream to him. His eyes never left Felicity's, and he could tell she noticed by the blush that remained permanent on her face. Then Tommy was handing over the rings and his breath caught as he slid the ring onto her finger at the same time as she did his. Directly after, he was instructed to kiss her, though he would have done it anyway.

People cheered and clapped as the world stood still. Despite the several kisses they've shared, this one would always be the one he thought back on. It was the one that sealed their future together. It was the one that made his hands shake and his brain muddle. It was the one that meant the beginning of everything with her.

Afterwards, everyone was ushered outside where the reception would be taking place. There were tables littering the perfectly green lawn. A single microphone was placed in front of the side of a stretched table meant for the people who participated in the actual wedding. That was where all of the kind words and speeches would be directed.

Oliver and Felicity took their seats at the table, joined by Tommy, Diggle, Sara, and Thea. Oliver couldn't remove the smile from his face as he watched Felicity chat with Sara. Their fingers were intertwined on the table for everyone to see. Tommy leaned over to Oliver, speaking lowly.

"Should I give my speech now?" he asked.

"Yeah, just don't screw it up," Oliver joked, earning a teasing smack on his shoulder from Felicity.

Tommy rose from his chair, stepping around the table and up to the microphone. He picked up a glass of champagne from the table, tapping a piece of silverware against it a few times. The amount of time it took for the people to fall silent was minimal. Tommy smiled gratefully, adjusting the microphone to his height.

"So, many of you may know me as Oliver's best friend, son of Malcolm Merlyn, or something else," he said, clearing his throat as Oliver shook his head. "But today, all you need to know about me is that I'm Oliver Queen's best man. I'm not that great with words, so I've decided to tell a story instead. It's a very true story; just keep that in mind."

"Oh, great," Oliver muttered, causing a few cackles from the people nearest to him.

"This story happened about eight years ago. Oliver had been working at Queen Consolidated for a few weeks. He was still learning the ropes, and he kept begging me to come over and help him get sorted. Since I had had previous experience working at my father's company, I agreed to help him out. We were in his office when I told him to pick a random department to start at. He did, and it just so happened to be the IT Department."

Tommy paused, glancing behind him at Oliver and Felicity. Oliver gave him a nod, encouraging him to continue.

"Anyway, we head down to the IT Department to talk to one of the employees about some technical issues the company had been having with the website. The receptionist had told us our best chance of fixing the problem quickly was with a Miss Felicity Smoak." The crowd awed, realizing what this story was going to be about. "Oliver followed the instructions to Felicity's desk that the receptionist had given us, finding her near the back of the floor. I let them do their talking, scoffing at Oliver's obvious flirting."

Oliver let out a noise of protest, being stopped by Felicity's hand on his shoulder. "You were flirting with me that day," she confirmed, drawing some laughs.

"Well, they finished up their meeting with Felicity fixing the problem in no time at all, of course. When we were back in the elevator, Oliver turned to me and said, 'She's hot.'" People laughed, clapping lightly. Oliver's face flushed as Felicity leaned into his shoulder. "I, of course, reminded him that it wasn't smart to have a relationship with any of his employees. That convinced him to back off, until he realized that he had taken her pen on accident. So, me being the amazing friend that I am, offered to go return it to her."

"There was no accident. I took that pen specifically so that I could go back down there and return it to her," Oliver revealed.

"Well, I went down there, finding her in the same spot. She didn't remember seeing me when I was there earlier until I reminded her who I was with. I gave her back the pen, explaining that that was my reason for returning. I remember her giving me a weird look right after I asked her out for drinks later."

Everyone laughed at that, Felicity being the loudest. Oliver just shook his head again, grinning nonetheless.

"He still won't let it go that she rejected him," he announced, stretching forward to be heard better.

"The point is, that Oliver went down there that day and thought Felicity was hot. I was standing next to him the whole time they talked, but she only remembered seeing his face. It really didn't surprise me to hear that they were becoming fast friends, just like it doesn't surprise me to be standing here on their wedding day, giving Oliver's best man speech. So, here's to Oliver and Felicity."

"To Oliver and Felicity," the crowd repeated, raising their glasses.

Oliver smiled in approval to his friend, Felicity wiping her tears away. Tommy took his seat back at the table, smirking smugly.

"Bet you can't beat that, Sara," he challenged, making Sara widen her eyes in surprise.

In the end, Sara's speech was just as good. She used a lot of quotes about love and how they went with Oliver and Felicity's relationship. She managed to avoid any inappropriateness, which was greatly appreciated by the bride and groom. Felicity cried while Oliver kissed the top of her head. Tommy raised his glass in approval, recognizing Sara's speech as a good one. And just because there was still some time left to kill before the dancing started, they allowed anyone to step up to the microphone and say some words.

When that time finally came around for everyone to make room for the dances, everyone was buzzing with happiness. Oliver and Felicity got the first one, him offering his hand to her before she stood up. She took it, allowing him to guide her over to the center of the crowd. They had hired a DJ, and the moment he set the intended record on, Felicity's heart melted.

"Desert Rose," she acknowledged, eyes filling with tears.

"This song was playing the moment I fell in love with you. It's only right that it's playing the moment we begin our lives together," he told her, bringing her hand to his lips before resting it back on her hip.

"I am so in love with you," she promised, cupping his face and pulling him down for a kiss.

People began to join them on the dance floor, swaying to the sweet lyrics. It's funny how one song could mean everything to someone, while being no more than background noise to someone else.

"Bye, everyone," Felicity yelled, waving her hand from the steps to the plane.

Oliver had borrowed one of his personal planes to take on their honeymoon. It was parked not to far from where their ceremony had taken place. Since Diggle had experience flying that sort of machinery, Oliver had hired him to take them to their destination. Him and Felicity found their seats, the door shutting behind them.

The people began to shrink in size as they took off. Oliver dug through the ice chest that was on the plane, pulling out a bottle of champagne. He took two glasses out as well, handing one over to Felicity. The cork came off with a pop as he poured the chilled liquid into their glasses. Once the bottle was set down, they clinked their glasses together.

She finished hers first, placing the empty glassware into her cup holder. He hadn't given her much because he knew they would drink more once they were at the hotel. Still, her hands reached for his shortly afterwards, bringing the fizzy substance to her mouth. When she returned it to him, her pink lipstick was around the rim. He grinned, reveling in the joy that small action still brought to him.

About an hour later, Felicity glanced out the window with furrowed brows. She turned to look at Oliver, eyes alternating back and forth between him and the window.

"Uh, where are we going?" she asked, making him chuckle.

"What do you mean?"

"This isn't the way to Fiji," she pointed out, earning a nod.

"That's because we're not going to Fiji," he told her, trying to fight back a grin, but failing miserably.

She looked more confused than he had ever seen her. It was all very amusing for him.

"Oliver, where are we going?"

His eyes glinted as he watched her reaction. "We're going to Paris."

Her jaw dropped, eyes widening is shock. He allowed himself to laugh, that being the reaction he expected from her.

"You're kidding," she accused, not processing that what he was saying was actually true.

"I promised I would take you one day," he reminded her.

"But you said Paris wasn't great when you were there."

"That was because you weren't there with me," he said, truly clueless that every time he spoke, she fell in love with him a little more.

She kissed him then, running her hand over his jaw. His grin was still there as he kissed her back. She pulled away after a few seconds, face still near his.

"Oh, you are so getting laid tonight, Mr. Queen," she whispered, pecking his lips once more before retreating back to her side of the seat.

When they arrived in France, Felicity was jumpy and excited. Her face was practically plastered to the window of the limo, taking in every detail. Oliver smiled at her, loving that it was him who had fulfilled this dream of hers. When they reached their hotel, she was the first to hop out. Oliver just watched her, getting a surge of love at seeing her prance around in her wedding dress.

A man came to the car to put their things upstairs, leaving after a generous tip from Oliver. Oliver caught up to Felicity, spinning her in his arms as he guided her up the steps. People stared at them, commenting on their cuteness in their language. They didn't need directions to their suite - Oliver had gotten the largest one. He insisted on carrying her into the room bridal style, and she was just too happy with him to even put up a fight.

So he swooped her into his arms, holding her as if she were weightless. Then he was unlocking the door, stepping into the room and letting it slam shut behind him. Their luggage was already by the door, arranged in an organized line. He set her down, going over to the large window that was taking up the wall across from the door.

"This view is gorgeous," he murmured, letting out a low whistle.

She came up from behind him, tucking her chin into his arm. "It really is."

They stood there for a few minutes, just admiring the sight. The last time he was here, he hadn't appreciated the beauty. Now that he was here with Felicity, it was all he could see. He shook his head because that just proved, once again, how perfect she was for him.

"Thank you for doing this for me," she said, intertwining their fingers together.

He shook his head as he gazed down at her, not knowing how to express the love he felt for her in this moment. Dipping his head forward, he caught her lips with his. She lifted a hand to cup his cheek, kissing him easier since her heels gave her a little extra height. When he pulled away, he smiled at her.

"How about some champagne?" he asked, her nodding in agreement.

There was a bottle lying in a bucket of ice on top of the table in the room. Oliver went over to it, examining the label. It was just the thing he knew Felicity would love. Her tastes for champagne was just one of the many things he had learned about her over the years. Plus, it was very similar to his own.

"Can you see if you can find some glasses?" he asked her, looking around the bucket, but not finding any.

"Sure," she smiled, walking away from him.

While Felicity went off in search of the glasses, he tore off the shiny wrapping that was covering the top of the bottle. His nails peeled off the tiny pieces, finally revealing the cork underneath. His eyes searched for a corkscrew, landing on a little bar area that was attached to the wall near the television. Bottle in hand, he approached the bar top. There was a little cabinet that he never would have noticed, had he not gone over there.

Oliver opened it up, finding a corkscrew, and a few glasses. He took out two and the corkscrew, setting it all out on the counter.

"Hey, Felicity," he called, struggling to tighten the screw into the cork, "I found the glasses."

He didn't hear a response back, but considering that the room wasn't that huge, he knew she had heard him. His main focus was on getting that cork out, and his face turned red as he twisted the handle.

"Oliver," a voice said, drawing his attention towards the direction of it.

The bottle nearly slipped from his hands, the sight in front of him overwhelming. No more then five feet away stood Felicity, dressed in the sexiest lingerie he had ever seen in his entire life. His mouth went dry as he put the bottle back on the counter.

"Felicity-" he started, clearing his throat because his words seemed to be getting caught on something.

She just grinned, wickedly, devilishly, and in a way that had his slacks tightening. His eyes scanned over her body, taking her all in. Starting from her feet down, he savored the sight. She had on high, black heels, ones he had recognized from work. Then came the stockings that traveled up her legs, clinging to each and every curve of them. Two bows signified the ends of the stockings, exposing only a short strip of skin before a new type of clothing hid it.

A green skirt is what started after that. It was frilly and so short, he was sure that if she even lifted a foot, everything would be revealed to his hungry eyes. There was another strip of skin exposed, it being her stomach, and then the final piece. It was a green laced bra, with a small bow connecting the two cups together in the center. The tops of her breasts heaved out of the cups, and he knew she had done this on purpose.

Her hair was the finishing touch to all this. It was released from its hold that it held for their ceremony. It tumbled down her shoulders in waves, reminding him of streaks of sunshine.

"Do you like your wedding present?" she asked, voice sultry with desire.

His brain fought for words, but there seemed to be no words left. He was lucky he could still understand her. Very slowly, he took a step towards her. Her grin only widened, and he wished she would meet him the rest of the way because he didn't trust himself to walk. As if she had read his mind, those heels raised from the ground, closing the space between them.

She stopped before they could touch, and his eyes narrowed as he wondered what her plan was here. Only about a foot separated them, but it was one foot too many.

"Come here," he ordered, surprising both himself and her with the solidness in his tone.

She only nodded, reminding him that she wanted this just as badly as he did. It had been a month, after all. He was thankful he didn't come just from looking at her. That strength he had mustered up and transferred into his tone gave him a little of his edge back. He accepted it gratefully. He would take what he could get.

"I'm guessing you like it?" she told him, moving forward so that her breasts were pressing into the straightness of his suit jacket.

"That would be an understatement," he responded, not even recognizing his own voice.

It was a mixture of deep, dark, heavy, and desperate. How accurate.

"I told you I look damn good in lingerie," she reminded him, smiling as he raised an eyebrow in remembrance.

His hands landed low on her waist, fingers curling around the emerald mesh of the skirt. "Don't tell me anyone else has seen you in this."

"No, I bought this just for you, Mr. Queen," she whispered, watching as that last bit of control he was hanging onto blew away.

His lips attacked hers, hands sliding up her body to bury themselves in her hair. His tongue forced its way between her lips, needing to taste her in a way that would have been inappropriate at the wedding. Her moans were swallowed by his mouth as it claimed hers over and over again. Pulling away, he saw that her lipstick was smeared, and knew it was all over his face by the grin that spread across hers.

"How long have you had this?" he questioned, fingering the straps of the bra.

Her breathing was ragged from his thorough kissing. "I just bought it yesterday. Sara helped me pick it out before my bachelorette party."

He took a moment to look it all over again, shaking his head in veneration. "And you had to buy it in green?"

"Well, it is your favorite color."

His eyes shot back up to hers, heart warmed - despite all the lust - that she had remembered that about him. Her head came forward, lips landing on his neck. His breathing stopped as she kissed him there, right underneath his jawline. The kisses were light, yet deliberate. Her fingers pressed against his shirt, tugging his tie loose.

He held onto her waist, worried he would have sunken to the ground had he not been doing so. After pulling the tie over his head, she began undoing the tiny buttons on his shirt. His eyes closed as he strained to maintain himself. Her lips were searing marks into his skin, soft and sweet on the trail of his stubble. He took a hold of her wrists, giving her a warning look before shrugging out of his jacket and finishing undoing the buttons of his shirt.

As he pulled it off, he took note of the admiration in her eyes. There was the hint of a smirk on his face, as he once again found a source of control. Inching towards her, he caught her lips in his own. He could feel her fingers bend themselves into the waistline of his slacks, restricted by the thin leather belt that accompanied it. There was a struggle for her as she tried to undo his pants and fight off his demanding tongue.

"Felicity," he growled, locking eyes with her once she got his zipper down.

She bit her lip, nodding in understanding. There was a chair in the corner of the room, and her eyes glinted when she saw it. His head raised, already reading her mind. Her fingers jabbed seductively into his chest as she pushed him backwards into the direction of the chair. Every time, he tried to catch her hand before it could reach his chest.

He never did.

"You doing OK there, Mr. Queen?" she asked, playfully grinning at his pained expression.

There was a clench of his jaw before he said, "I want to rip you out of that."

Her jaw hung just enough for him to notice. Her recovery time was clearly much better than this. There was one more forceful shove before his legs were hitting the edge of that chair, and he was sinking into the leather. Carefully, she lowered herself onto his lap, straddling him while his hands steadied her by her hips. She held onto his shoulders, rubbing against him a couple times in the process.

He lowered his head, kissing the tops of her breasts. She could feel his teeth every so often, trying to contain her urge to whine in pleasure. He grabbed her bra, pushing her breasts upwards to make things easier for him. They were practically spilling out from the ridiculously tight confines of the lace. Oliver was seconds away from tearing it off.

However, her eye caught his, and she knew exactly what he was thinking. Reaching behind her, she unclasped the bra, allowing it to fall into his lap. He appeared grateful, but it was clear he wanted more. His fingers pinched the material of her stockings, a low rumble eliciting from his chest when she began grinding into him. His fingers slid under the netting, tugging on it until it began to roll down her leg. Her breathing was erratic from the friction of her own doing when her hand reached down to stop him.

"Someone's a little eager," she teased, dropping the grin when she saw the darkness in his eyes.

He held her in place, making sure she couldn't rub against him if she planned on distracting him that way. "You want this just as badly as I do."

"I spent a lot of money on this," she informed him, trying to justify them putting off sex for a second longer.

His thumbs pressed into her hips, making sure he had her full attention. "Felicity, I plan on you wearing this several more times. Trust me, it will be worth it."

If there were any words to say that would convince her to undress, those were it. She stood up from his lap, smirking at the obvious arousal in his pants. He just leaned back, eyes glued to her body. She wasn't sure anything would be able to make him look away.

She took off her heels first, lifting her feet onto the bed one at a time, and setting her heels next to the dresser. Then, she was rolling down her stockings, feeling the desire emanating from Oliver as a new inch of skin became exposed. The only thing left on her was the skirt that was so short, it could qualify as a blindfold. Oliver was on his feet, stopping her before she could take that off.

"I'll take care of that," he told her, drawing her back to the past.

He had told her that before on more than one occasion. What was with him and wanting to be the one to remove her skirts? She never got around to asking him. At the moment, she didn't quite care what the answer was. All she cared about was the way he was backing her onto the bed until she was sitting on the edge, directly in front of his popped open slacks.

He looked down at her, not needing to ask what he wanted from her. She reached forward, dipping her fingers into the waistline of the slacks as she brought them down to his knees. Desperation ate away at her, causing her to yank his boxers down as well. She wrapped her fingers around him instantly, not needing to look up to know his head was tilted back.

She had done this so many times, she knew each and every response to expect from him.

He caught her by surprise when he stopped her.

"Tonight's not about that," he huffed, towering over her as he leaned down to kiss her lips.

Her body fell back against the sheets, causing him to step out of the remainder of his clothing to meet her once again. There was a moment of hesitation where all he could do was marvel at the sight in front of him. He shook his head.

How did he get so lucky?

Snapping out of his daze, he got onto the bed, hovering over her. She grinned, reaching up to cup his face. Their lips fused together, distracting her from what he was about to do. With his right hand, he began to guide himself over to her entrance. His tongue shot into her mouth, assuring him that she would be somewhat surprised.

Right when he knew he was in the perfect spot, he swung straight into her. She bit his lip in surprise before a long moan escaped through her body. She clutched onto him, trying to stabilize herself after that immediate shot of pleasure. He was in the same condition, if not worse. It had been way too long. He had almost forgotten what it felt like to have her surrounding this part of him.

It felt like home.

"I missed this," he whispered, kissing her neck as he held his position in between her spread legs.

"Yeah," she breathed, kissing him since she couldn't find the words to show him she felt the same.

He shifted, making her breath hitch. When he gave his first real thrust, he wasn't sure she was going to make it. She whimpered his name, running her hands over his hair. His self control slipped away from his grasp as she said his name in the way he loved so much. He looked down at her swallowing thickly. Then, he pulled out completely before swinging forward in another thrust.

Her nails dug into his back, and he could literally feel her unraveling underneath him. His hips lurched forward again, causing him to sink into a steady rhythm. She was so loud, and nothing made him happier than hearing his name being yelled from her perfect lips.

When she came, she came fast and hard. He followed behind her, gritting out her name as he did so. He collapsed next to her, catching his breath before covering their sweaty bodies up with a blanket. Her head came to rest on his chest, rising and falling in sync with his breathing.

"God, my wife is hot," he breathed, making her laugh.

"Stop it."

"Felicity, it's true," he promised, reminded of the several times she had asked him not to call her hot. "If you don't believe me, I can prove it to you."

He shifted onto his side, pulling her flush against him. Their lips met softly, separating after a few moments.

"I think you already proved it to me," she murmured, biting her bottom lip as she thought of it.

He groaned at the sight, shaking his head. "It doesn't matter. I can be ready to prove it to you any time, any place. Here and now, for example."

She laughed, turning away so that her back was on the mattress again. Her head rested on his chest as he dragged his fingers through her hair. The moment was perfect, no words needed to feel how much the other cared. Felicity traced nonsense patterns into his chest, her breathing back to a soft rhythm.

"Our relationship wasn't easy, but we made it."

"We did," he confirmed. "I always knew we would."

"Yeah?" she asked, resting her chin on her hand as she looked up at him.

"Yeah," he nodded. "Felicity, you were perfect. You are perfect. And any problems we had along the way, were because of my own stupidity." He paused, stroking a finger down her face. "I didn't do too bad though, did I?"

She reached up to peck his lips, smiling at him. "No. You did good, Queen."

"You always tell me that," he said, trying not to express the rush of emotions he felt every time she did.

"Well, you always do a good job," she laughed, touched that he noticed.

He kissed her again, pulling away to chuckle. "You do realize that technically, I can tell you that, too. You know, considering you are a Queen now."

The realization warmed something inside of her that she couldn't explain. All she knew was that this moment was everything and one she would never forget. And judging from the content sigh he let out, he felt the same.

A/N: Please leave a review! They mean everything to me!