Happy birthday, waterwife.

Word Count: 338 words.

Experience

He loves her.

He really does.

Maybe, he stops and thinks, a little too much.

He's teased on it constantly. Kaze calls it 'unbridled passion' and does so with a straight face, Silas just slaps his back and calls his best friend a lovestruck fool. Both are supportive otherwise, and Corrin plays along because he's too much of a good sport (and perhaps more of a fool than he even knows).

It's certainly understandable, the way he reacts to the beating in his chest, the gawky—but welcomed—gestures he tries to mask as courting, the doors he opens for her, the chairs he pulls, the small gifts he gives and the warm smiles he receives in return. Being locked up in a fortress for a good decade and then some doesn't exactly do wonders for digesting social constructs, Corrin was by and large a babyfaced prince being whisked by emotions he should have been exposed to ages ago (needless to say, it kind of worries him, what if he screws up?).

How ridiculously and unfathomably fortunate he was to know that his feelings were mutual.

His heart begins to thump a little less when she accepts him into her soul, moved by his confession and sincere promise to stay by her side for the rest of their days. They share an embrace, a small peck, and as she eases herself into his arms, she tilts her head up to meet his gaze.

"You don't have to try so hard," she says, her cheek feeling the beating in his chest. "Please, just be yourself."

The courting, the little things, the going out of his way to put a pinch of 'Corrin' into everything, that's what she means. And to that, he scratches his cheek, chuckles idly with a sheepish smile, and mumbles to her in a low voice.

"Er.. This is myself." he answers (what a strange, endearing prince).

Azura giggles, and they share a few more pecks after that.

-they're both dorks.