Prompt: An AU where it isn't Sister Lily but Noelle, Asta falls helplessly for. Noelle Silva was never prepared for what it meant to be courted by the magicless knucklehead.
—
The Black Bulls hideout was just as loud and chaotic as Asta expected.
He didn't care.
Because the moment he stepped through the doors, his eyes locked onto her—silver hair, perfect posture, pride sharp enough to cut.
Beautiful.
The world didn't slow down.
He just stopped paying attention to everything else.
"Name's Asta! I'm gonna be the Wizard King!" he shouted, already grinning like he'd won a battle no one else knew was happening.
Noelle blinked.
And blinked again.
"…What?"
He marched right up to her, completely ignoring the introductions still going on behind him.
"You're amazing," he said, voice loud and full of admiration. "Like, super amazing. What's your name? Wait—don't tell me—I already know. Noelle Silva, right?!"
She stiffened.
"You—you know who I am?"
"Of course I do!" Asta beamed, fists clenched with excitement. "You're incredible. And super pretty. And strong-looking. And elegant. And—"
"Stop talking," she muttered, turning red. "You're embarrassing yourself."
"No way. I'm dead serious."
Noelle's eye twitched.
Vanessa smirked over her glass of wine from the corner. "Oh, this is gonna be fun."
—
She thought he'd drop it after a day.
Or two.
He didn't.
Every morning, she walked into the main hall—and there he was, waiting like an overeager puppy.
"Good morning, Noelle! You look radiant today! Wanna marry me?"
She didn't dignify it with a response.
Every training session, he followed her like a shadow.
"Wow, that spell was insane! I swear you're the coolest person I've ever seen—will you marry me now or should I wait until after lunch?"
She blasted a crater in the ground beside his feet.
"Back off!"
He still smiled.
—
"You've got it bad," Finral told him one afternoon, watching Noelle storm off for the tenth time that day.
Asta shrugged, unapologetic.
"Can you blame me? She's incredible."
"She hates you."
"No, she doesn't. She just doesn't know how to handle me yet."
"…That's worse."
—
Noelle told herself she didn't care.
She told herself it was just some peasant boy with no manners or magic trying to get a rise out of her.
She told herself it was beneath her to react.
And yet…
Her face wouldn't stop heating up every time he looked at her like that. Like she was something divine.
Like she was something his.
It was infuriating.
And worse—it made her stomach flutter in a way that magic never had.
—
He caught her training in the courtyard one night.
Didn't say a word at first. Just stood there, arms crossed, smiling like she was a masterpiece.
"You're amazing, Noelle."
She whipped around, startled. "Don't sneak up on me!"
"You're amazing," he repeated. "Marry me."
She launched a water dragon at his face.
He blocked it with his sword, laughing even as it drenched them both.
"You're soaking wet, you idiot!"
"So are you," he said, stepping closer. "Still the prettiest girl I've ever seen."
Her heart skipped.
She turned away before he could see her face.
—
She thought about punching him.
She thought about freezing him in a water sphere and leaving him there overnight.
She definitely thought about telling Captain Yami to discipline his subordinate for constant harassment.
But none of those thoughts lasted more than a few seconds.
What lingered were the words.
You're amazing.
Still the prettiest girl I've ever seen.
And the worst one—
Marry me.
—
At dinner, she found herself stealing glances.
He was laughing too loud. Stuffing his face like a savage. Bragging to Luck about how cool her Sea Dragon's Roar had been.
He noticed her looking.
Winked.
Bastard.
She nearly dropped her fork.
—
Later that week, they got sent on a routine mission together.
It was raining heavily.
She thought he'd be all business.
He was not.
"Noelle, I'll protect you even if I have to lose all my limbs! That's husband energy, right?!"
She snapped her parasol shut and smacked him in the face with it.
"Shut up! You're insane!"
He grinned, nose bleeding.
"Worth it."
—
He wasn't supposed to look at her like that.
She wasn't supposed to care.
But the way his eyes softened when she cast a new spell… the way he cheered louder than anyone else…
The way he never once looked at her like she was broken.
Like she wasn't worth loving.
—
One night, she caught herself waiting.
Just a little.
Hoping he'd show up in the courtyard again.
Hoping he'd say something stupid and sweet and make her lose her temper.
But he didn't come that night.
And she didn't sleep.
—
Vanessa found her the next morning staring at the doorway like something was missing.
"No Asta today?" she teased, sipping coffee.
Noelle scowled.
"I don't care."
Vanessa grinned into her cup.
"Sure you don't, sweetheart."
—
The next day, he was back.
Hair a mess. Arm bandaged. Face bruised from whatever wild stunt he pulled while away.
But his smile?
Still bright.
"Noelle! I missed you! Wanna get married yet?"
She marched right past him.
Then paused.
Just long enough to whisper, "You're late, idiot."
And for the first time, he blushed.
—
She told herself she hated him.
She told herself this was just temporary.
She told herself she'd never, ever say yes.
But deep down…
She already knew.
He'd ruined her.
And she didn't want it to stop.
—
The capital mission should've been simple.
Escort a noble caravan. Maintain formation. Smile politely.
It became a disaster the moment Asta opened his mouth.
—
"Noelle, marry me."
He said it in front of the Vermillion heir, three Silva nobles, and half the capital's court.
Nozel nearly dropped his goblet.
"What did you just say to my sister?!"
Noelle's scream nearly cracked the sky.
"You uncultured PEASANT!"
Asta just stood there, completely unaffected.
"C'mon, Noelle, it's a great day for a wedding. Sun's out. Flowers blooming. The audience is already here!"
The nobles gasped. Somewhere, someone fainted.
Fuegoleon cleared his throat like he was suppressing a laugh.
—
Later, Noelle slapped him behind a pillar.
"You absolute menace! That was in front of my entire family!"
"You're right," he said, rubbing his cheek. "I should've brought flowers."
"That's not the point!"
"But… you didn't say no."
"I didn't say yes either!"
"But you blushed."
She looked ready to kill him.
And herself.
—
Back at base, Finral gave up trying to stop him.
"If you're going to propose every day," he sighed, "at least try to be less embarrassing about it."
"Why?" Asta grinned. "I like seeing her blush."
Vanessa raised her drink. "Cheers to that."
—
Training sessions became unbearable.
For Noelle.
Asta kept throwing himself into danger just to get her to react.
"Look at you go!" he shouted, mid-duel. "Such elegant mana control! I'd die to marry you!"
She shot him in the stomach with a water lance.
He coughed blood. Still smiled.
"Totally worth it."
—
She tried ignoring him.
Didn't work.
She tried yelling.
He took it as encouragement.
She tried writing a formal complaint to Yami.
He burned it and said, "If he's got the guts to chase you that hard, maybe you should let him catch you."
She screamed into a pillow for three hours.
—
"You're obsessed with me," she accused one evening, arms crossed, face flushed.
"I am."
No hesitation. No shame.
It hit her like a slap.
And worse?
She liked hearing it.
—
She sat alone in her room that night, staring at the candle.
No one's ever wanted me like that.
No one's ever looked at me like I was worth chasing.
She clenched her jaw.
He's insane. Stupid. Tactless.
Her hand trembled on the bedspread.
And I can't stop thinking about him.
—
She woke up to find a poorly-drawn sketch slipped under her door.
It was of her—standing proud, casting a spell, looking glorious.
The handwriting below read:
I suck at drawing. But this is how I see you. –Asta
She stared at it for ten full minutes.
Then burned it in a fit of embarrassment.
And immediately regretted it.
—
On their next mission, she saved him.
He grinned through bloodied teeth. "Thanks, my beautiful savior! Marry me?"
She kicked him in the ribs.
But when he wasn't looking…
She smiled.
—
One morning, she tried getting him back.
Just once.
"Your hair looks less stupid today," she said quickly, avoiding eye contact.
He blinked.
Then lit up like a sunrise.
"Does this mean we're engaged?!"
She blasted him through the wall.
—
Mimosa pulled her aside one afternoon.
"You like him," she said plainly.
"I do not!"
"You absolutely do."
"I do not!"
"You keep smiling after he talks to you."
"I have a facial twitch! It's genetic!"
—
The next time he proposed, it was in the middle of a battlefield.
Asta dodged an explosion, cut through three enemies, then turned to her with that stupidly earnest expression.
"Noelle Silva, if we live through this, will you finally agree to spend the rest of your life yelling at me?"
She froze.
Mouth open. Heart slamming.
Then she screamed, "Fight first, propose LATER!"
But her voice cracked.
And it wasn't anger.
Not really.
—
That night, they camped under the stars.
She lay on her side, watching his sleeping face from across the fire.
His brow was bruised. His arm wrapped in bandages. His mouth half-open like an idiot.
Why do you keep looking at me like I'm worth everything?
Her fingers curled around her blanket.
Why do I want you to keep doing it?
—
The next morning, he greeted her with the usual grin.
"Noelle! Did you dream about our wedding?"
She shoved him off a cliff.
But waited until he climbed back up to punch his arm and mutter, "Stupid…"
And that was the first time she didn't try to deny it.
—
They should've died.
That mission wasn't just dangerous. It was suicidal.
—
Traps everywhere. Magical beasts. Rogue mages with blood in their eyes.
Asta fought like a demon.
Noelle didn't know where he found the strength. Or the recklessness.
But she knew the moment she lost sight of him—
Her stomach dropped.
—
He crashed through the trees, bleeding, barely standing.
Three mages swarmed him.
She screamed his name, racing through the underbrush.
Too far.
Too slow.
—
One mage raised his wand.
Asta didn't move fast enough.
Noelle's magic erupted.
A tidal wave exploded from her hands, vaporizing trees and earth and enemy alike.
She didn't care who saw.
Didn't care what spell it was.
She just needed him alive.
—
When the dust cleared, she found him lying on his back, coughing.
He looked up at her like she'd descended from the heavens.
"Damn," he croaked. "You're beautiful when you're angry."
Her lip trembled.
—
He reached up, blood on his teeth.
"Noelle… if I die…"
"You're not dying, you idiot—"
"…will you say yes? Just once? Even if you don't mean it?"
Her heart cracked in half.
—
"Shut up," she whispered.
Then louder: "SHUT UP!"
She turned away.
Her whole body shook.
She hated him.
She hated how scared he made her.
She hated how deeply she wanted to say yes.
—
Back at base, she locked herself in her room.
Didn't speak to anyone for two days.
Didn't even yell when Luck and Magna blew up half the courtyard.
—
Vanessa found her eventually.
Sat at the end of her bed, sipping wine, legs crossed.
"You're not angry at him," she said.
Noelle glared.
"I am. He—he nearly got himself killed!"
Vanessa tilted her head. "And that's why you're scared."
"I'm not scared."
"You're terrified."
"No, I—!"
"You're in love with a boy who throws himself at danger with a smile… and you can't bear the thought of losing him."
Silence.
Tense. Cracking.
Noelle stared at her blanket like it held answers.
Vanessa stood.
"Let me give you some advice."
Noelle didn't move.
"If you want to keep pretending, go ahead. Wear your armor. Dismiss him. Pretend you're above it."
Vanessa walked to the door.
"But one day, he won't be there to ask again."
The door clicked shut.
—
That night, Noelle cried.
Silently. Without tears.
Just the ache in her chest causing an illusionary gag to clog her throat and airways.
He asked me to say yes.
Even if I didn't mean it.
Her fingers curled against the sheets.
But I would've meant it.
I would've meant every word.
—
She found him training at sunrise.
Swinging his sword. Shirtless. Bruised. Glorious.
Of course.
Of course he was shirtless.
—
He noticed her and grinned like he always did, like nothing had happened.
"Morning, my future wife."
She didn't answer.
She didn't yell.
Just stood there, arms folded, face tight.
"I hate how you make me feel," she muttered.
He stopped swinging.
"What?"
"I hate it."
She met his eyes.
"I hate that you make me care. I hate that when you're hurt, I feel like I'm going to die. I hate that when you call me beautiful, I like it."
He didn't move.
Didn't speak.
—
"I hate that I… think about kissing you."
He blinked.
His mouth opened, shut, then curved.
"Is that a yes?"
"No!" she shouted.
Then, quieter: "Maybe."
—
He stepped closer.
Slow. Careful. Like she was some wild creature he didn't want to spook.
"I'd never ask you to be someone else," he said. "I just want you to be mine."
She stared at him.
Tears burned behind her eyes, but they didn't fall.
"You're not proper. You're not royal. You don't know etiquette."
"Not even a little."
"You're reckless. You're annoying. You're loud."
"And you still showed up."
—
They stood there.
Too close.
He reached for her hand.
She let him touch it.
Didn't pull away.
Didn't lean in.
Frozen in fear and want and something too raw to name.
—
Their faces were inches apart.
His breath hitched.
Hers trembled.
Then she panicked.
Turned.
Ran.
—
He didn't chase her.
He just stood there in the morning light, watching her flee with a crooked, dazzling smile.
Like he already knew—
She was coming back.
—
She didn't sleep.
Her body collapsed into bed, but her mind stayed wired—haunted by his face, his words, his damn smile.
You still showed up.
That stupid grin.
Those stupid eyes.
Why do you always mean it?
—
The next night, she wandered outside the base.
Moonlight bathed the field. The wind was soft, brushing her hair like fingers.
And he was there.
Alone. Sitting on a rock, staring up at the stars like they had answers.
—
He looked up before she said a word.
Like he knew.
"Hey," he said, voice low.
Not teasing.
Not loud.
Just warm.
Like always.
She didn't know what to say.
So she sat beside him.
Arms stiff. Gaze forward.
Like she could pretend this wasn't the most terrifying thing she'd ever done.
—
"I'm sorry," she said.
"For running."
He didn't reply right away.
Didn't joke.
Didn't laugh.
Just gave her time.
"I don't know how to do this," she admitted, voice barely above a whisper. "I've never… I mean, no one's ever…"
She trailed off.
Ashamed. Afraid.
He turned to her gently.
"You don't have to know."
She swallowed.
"It's improper."
"So?"
"I'm a noble. A royal."
"Cool."
"I'm… scared."
"I know."
She closed her eyes.
"I hate how much I want this."
Her fingers dug into her lap.
"I shouldn't. It's wrong. It's—"
"It's you."
His voice broke through everything.
"The way you think. The way you fight. The way you yell at me like I'm the only idiot in the world."
He leaned closer.
"I've loved you since the first time you insulted me and told me to get lost."
—
She opened her eyes.
He was looking at her like she mattered.
Not her title.
Not her magic.
Her.
"You're not supposed to love me."
"Says who?"
"Everyone."
"Screw 'em."
Her lips parted.
Not in argument.
Just breathless.
Shaken.
Staring at him like she finally saw him for the first time.
Not the loud, tactless boy who wouldn't stop proposing.
But the only one who ever stayed.
—
He reached out.
Not bold this time.
Careful.
Palm up. Waiting.
Like always.
Her hand hovered over his.
Shaking.
Terrified.
Do it.
Don't do it.
Do it.
Her fingers brushed his.
Then laced between them.
He exhaled like the stars had finally come down to kiss the earth.
And she didn't let go.
—
"I'm not ready," she said, staring down.
"I can wait," he replied. "But I'll still ask. Every day."
She laughed. A real one. Quiet. Embarrassed.
"You're relentless."
"I'm in love."
She looked up.
Their faces were close again.
Closer than the last time.
His eyes flicked to her lips.
Hers dropped to his.
Her breath hitched.
She leaned in.
So did he.
And just before their lips met—
She froze.
Pulled back, heart slamming.
"I—" She stood. "I'm sorry."
And ran.
Again.
—
This time, she didn't get far.
He didn't move.
Just watched her from the rock with that same knowing smile.
Like he could already feel her fingertips still locked in his.
—
She sat in her bed that night.
Hand over her chest.
Eyes wide open.
I almost kissed him.
Not because of magic.
Not because of the moment.
Because she wanted to.
And that was more terrifying than anything she'd ever faced.
—
The summons came in the morning.
A letter sealed in silver wax.
The Vermillion estate was hosting a royal banquet—mandatory attendance for all nobles.
Noelle stared at the parchment like it was poison.
It might as well have been.
—
She hadn't spoken to Asta since that night.
She couldn't.
Didn't trust herself to look at him and not kiss him.
Or worse.
—
The banquet hall was suffocating.
Crystal chandeliers. Gold-trimmed pillars. Dozens of noble families gathered in polished attire and plastic smiles.
And in the middle of it all—
Nozel Silva.
Radiating judgment from the dais like it was perfume.
Noelle stepped inside, chin high, dress flawless.
A façade she'd perfected since childhood.
But then—
"Asta's here," Mimosa whispered beside her.
Noelle's heart plunged.
—
And there he was.
Wearing the only formal clothes he owned—barely tamed hair, grin wide, sleeves rolled like he couldn't quite understand how to look royal.
He looked ridiculous.
He looked perfect.
The crowd noticed.
Whispers snaked through silk and jewels.
"That peasant?"
"He's the one courting Lady Noelle?"
"Disgraceful."
—
Nozel's gaze found Asta instantly.
A storm brewed behind his eyes.
Noelle could feel it building.
But Asta?
He didn't notice.
Or he did, and didn't care.
He spotted her.
Lit up like the sun.
"NOELLE!"
The entire hall flinched.
She buried her face in her hands.
He marched up to her in front of everyone.
Didn't kneel.
Didn't falter.
Held out a single white flower, probably picked from the bushes outside.
"Marry me."
—
The room exploded.
Gasps. Laughter. Scandalized muttering.
Some nobles dropped their wine glasses.
Noelle wanted the floor to open up and swallow her whole.
Nozel stood.
Like a blade drawn from its scabbard.
"You disgrace yourself," he said coldly.
His voice silenced the room.
"You disgrace her."
Asta's smile didn't fade.
"Pretty sure she can speak for herself."
Nozel's magic flared.
Mercury shimmered at his fingertips, glinting like razors.
"You will not speak to me in such a—"
"She's not yours to control," Asta said.
The air snapped.
—
Noelle stepped between them before anyone moved.
She didn't know how.
Her legs moved before her thoughts caught up.
"Enough."
She didn't shout.
Didn't stammer.
Just one word, steady and clear.
The whole room leaned in.
—
Nozel looked at her like she'd been possessed.
"You defend him? This—peasant?"
"I do."
Her voice trembled now, but she didn't stop.
"I'm tired of pretending."
She turned to Asta.
His face was still. Waiting. Holding his breath.
He didn't smile now.
Didn't speak.
Just waited.
—
"I don't care what anyone here thinks," she said.
"Not anymore."
The silence was crushing.
Royal eyes boring into her from every direction.
But she only looked at him.
Asta reached out.
Hand open.
Just like before.
"Walk with me," he said, voice soft.
"Or walk away. I'll love you either way."
Her breath caught.
Her heart broke.
And rebuilt itself in a single beat.
She took his hand.
Firm. Certain.
"I choose him."
—
The gasps were thunder this time.
Nobles reeled back like she'd slapped the king himself.
Nozel staggered.
"I—You—You DARE—!"
Yami laughed from the shadows.
Nacht spoke.
"Satisfied now? If you are, let's go."
Yami took a long and drawn out puff of his cigarette causing the Faust to frown as Yami chuckled and whispered low.
"Come on man, just a little while longer. The fun ain't over yet."
Nacht said nothing.
—
Noelle squeezed Asta's hand.
He squeezed back.
And for the first time in her life—
She didn't feel like she was falling.
She felt held.
They left the banquet together.
Heads high.
Hand in hand.
Let the nobles choke on their pearls.
Let the royals rage.
She'd chosen him.
And she didn't regret it for a second.
—
They didn't talk much on the walk back.
Didn't need to.
Her hand stayed in his.
His thumb kept brushing her knuckles.
And her heart refused to calm down.
—
The moment the base came into view—
BOOM.
Confetti. Streamers. A banner that read: "FINALLY?!"
"Surprise engagement party!" Finral shouted, already half-drunk.
"YOU SAID YES?!" Charmy tackled Noelle with a plate of cake in each hand.
"I'm gonna explode something!" Luck yelled, sprinting into the forest.
Vanessa raised a glass.
Gordon whispered a toast only Henry could hear.
Grey fainted twice.
—
Noelle wanted to sink through the floor.
But Asta never let go of her hand.
"It's not an engagement," she muttered under her breath.
"Oh," Asta said. "So next time I propose, say yes out loud?"
She punched his shoulder.
He just laughed.
—
The party lasted hours.
At some point, Asta picked her up and spun her around.
Everyone cheered.
She shrieked and told him to put her down.
But she was smiling the whole time.
—
Later, when the music faded and the others passed out—
She found him alone in the courtyard.
Looking up at the stars again.
"You always look at the sky," she said, walking up.
"Helps me breathe."
She sat beside him.
"No proposals tonight?"
He grinned. "Nah. Thought I'd give you a break."
She almost said thank you.
But it caught in her throat.
Instead, she leaned into him.
Shoulder against his.
Head on his arm.
And for once, she didn't freeze or yell or fluster.
He just tilted his head against hers.
"I still don't get why you picked me," she whispered.
He turned, voice quiet.
"Because I love you."
She bit her lip.
Heat rushed to her cheeks.
"I love you too," she mumbled.
So fast, it barely counted.
He blinked.
Then beamed.
"Say it again?"
"No."
"Please?"
"Absolutely not."
"I'll trade you a kiss."
She glared at him.
Then kissed his cheek before he could react.
He froze. Eyes wide. Brain broken.
Worth it.
—
They sat there, pressed together, breathing each other in.
No pressure.
No proposals.
Just them.
"You know," he said after a while. "When I become Wizard King…"
She groaned. "Don't say it."
"…I'm gonna propose during the ceremony."
She groaned louder. "Asta—"
"In front of the whole Clover Kingdom."
"ASTA."
He grinned wider.
—
And despite everything—despite how mortified she should've been—
She laughed.
She actually laughed.
And whispered, "You're the worst."
He leaned in, smug.
"But you love me."
She hid her face in his shoulder.
And didn't deny it.
—
Epilogue
It felt like a dream.
The grand hall was packed.
Asta stood at the podium, crowned Wizard King. His hands trembled slightly—less from nerves and more from the overwhelming weight of the moment.
He did it.
He actually did it.
His eyes scanned the room, the faces of nobles and commoners alike, the same people who once doubted him. And then—he found her.
Noelle stood near the back, watching him, her gaze softer now than it had ever been before.
And he was certain of one thing—no matter the title, no matter the crown or the throne—she was his greatest victory.
—
When the ceremony ended, the cheers erupted.
Asta stepped down from the platform, his heart pounding. And through the crowd, he saw her. She was waiting, like always.
He pushed his way toward her, his feet moving faster than his brain could process.
"Noelle," he said, breathless.
She raised an eyebrow but didn't step back.
"Yeah?" Her voice was steady. Too steady.
He could see it—that look in her eyes. The one she always gave him right before she'd give in, just a little.
His heart was hammering in his chest. But this time, he didn't hold back.
"I know it's been a long road, and I know I've been... relentless," he started, voice low, raw. "But I meant every word. Every proposal. Every joke. Every moment I've spent with you, I've meant it."
She didn't say anything. Just watched him, her arms crossed, lips pressed together. But her eyes softened just enough for him to know she was listening.
He swallowed.
"I'm not asking anymore. I'm just... telling you."
He stepped closer.
"I love you, Noelle. And I don't care what anyone says. I need you."
Her gaze flickered—brief hesitation.
"I…" She shook her head. "You're the most infuriating person I've ever met."
He grinned, finally daring to laugh. "I know. That's what you love about me."
She didn't respond to the jab.
Instead, she stepped forward, closer than they'd ever been.
The moment her lips touched his, the world disappeared.
It wasn't a kiss full of words or explanations.
It was simple. Real.
A kiss that had been years in the making.
A kiss that said would finally be accompanied by an answer.
A clear and undeniable response.
She pulled back just slightly, her breath mingling with his. Her voice was barely a whisper, but it hit him like a tidal wave.
"Yes."
It was all he needed.
She didn't have to say anything else.
He grabbed her, pulling her into another kiss, deeper, as if he was making up for lost time. And Noelle didn't stop him. Her hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer.
When they finally broke apart, Asta's breath was shaky, and Noelle's cheeks were flushed. She couldn't hide the tiny, secretive smile that tugged at her lips.
"You're going to drive me insane," she muttered.
He chuckled, kissing her forehead before pulling her into a tight embrace.
"No. I'm just going to love you. Over and over again."
—
The rest of the world faded into the background.
They didn't care about the ceremony anymore. They didn't care about the royal titles or the kingdom or the future.
It was just the two of them. Together. Finally.
And later, when they finally found themselves alone, after the chaos had died down, Asta pulled her into his arms again.
This time, there was no ceremony. No teasing. No reservations.
Just two people who knew, beyond any doubt, that they were meant to be.
"I've waited a long time for this," Noelle whispered, looking up at him with a sly smile.
"I know," Asta said, his voice husky. "But now that I've got you, I'm not letting go."
She slid her hands around his neck, pulling him close.
"I don't want you to."
—
The night passed in a haze of stolen kisses, quiet confessions, and the unspoken promise that this—they—was forever.
And as they finally lay together, tangled in the sheets, Asta's final words were simple, but they carried all the promise of a future they could finally begin to build.
"I'm never letting you go."
Noelle smiled, her hand on his chest, the warm pulse of his heart beneath her palm.
"I know."
And for the first time in her life, she felt completely at peace.