"I'm going to say it today. I haven't said it in the many years of our love, and I want to say it," Rosethorn rambled as she looked into her very small, usually hidden looking glass. The reflection looked back patiently. Great: the one time Rosethorn was patient it was when her reflection was ready to start practicing "I love you"s.
She did. For two hours she sat, paced, or stood and practiced speaking into the looking glass. Some were long confessions and some were short. At last she stuck on one that was medium length, intellectual, and—hopefully—understandable. The plant mage practiced it three more times and then let a proud grin play over her face.
It was time to talk to Lark.
"Lark? Lark, where are you?" Rosethorn called from the kitchen, allowing her voice to travel into the bedrooms and workshops of Discipline cottage as well as out into the gardens in the off chance that the thread mage was enjoying the sun outside.
"Yes, Rosie?" the tall, graceful female asked as she peeked her head out from her workshop.
"I want to talk to you."
There was a nod and the dark-haired, darker-skinned female swept her arm in the doorway to signal to step in. Rosethorn did. She took a deep breath, very deep. It took a prominent effort not to count the beats of her heart, which thundered off at an incredibly increased rate. She looked at Lark's smooth cheek and began.
"We've spent a long time together, Lark, and I wanted to thank you for rescuing me from the life I would have and… for giving me the life you gave me with your love and…," she fumbled over her tongue. Her mind was screaming, 'You're a middle aged woman and you can't even SAY it!'
Lark put a gentle hand on Rosethorn's arm and stroked. The willowy woman asked gently, "Rosethorn, what in Mila's name are you saying?"
"I love you, you idiot," the green-thumbed, tart-tongued woman shot back before she could even think. Her eyes widened—had she truly just done that? That was something a Water Dedicate would do. She wasn't the type to just blurt things out; especially something she had so much trouble with…
"Well, then. I love you too, Love," Lark replied as she bent slightly to press her lips to Rosethorn's. The auburn-haired female's mind whirred away. It was that easy? Numerous questions and comments swam around in her head and stopped suddenly to be replaced by one strong string of thought.
Of course it was that easy. Lark had always understood Rosethorn. There had been no need to sugarcoat the phrase. Rosethorn had done it in a very Rosethorn way and Lark took to that like a plant to the sun. That's just how things made sense.