Summary: You buy yourself rainboats and Edmund thinks they are adorable
England’s gloomy day would not dampen your cheery spirit. Dreary clouds splattered fat rain drops into the busy streets, hitting the cars below. Citizens shoved their jackets over their heads to avoid getting damp. Brisk air already gave skin goosebumps, let alone if the skin were to be wet.
Edmund grumbled as a particularly large drop smacked his forehand, left over water falling past his eyebrow and down the angle of his nose. He movies his pale freckled hand up to rub it away in an irritated manner.
He was on his way home from the book store and still had a few blocks to go before he would reach the warm apartment he had been renting for the past few months.
His books were sheltered from the weather within the comfort of his jacket. He cursed as he ran up the door and unlocked it with his key. A key that he adored.
Edmund was good at forgetting objects and you didn’t want him to somehow lose the bland looking key. So you painted it for him. It was red and gold; reminded him of the Golden Age of Narnia. He felt a little small grace his lips as he heard you humming from the kitchen.
He slipped off his shoes and made it around the corner. You sat with your back against the cabinet, scrubbing dillegenlty on a pair of boots.
“Rain boots?” Edmund asked, pointing at you.
You sheepishly smiled, picking them up to show off. They were a dark green with bright red mushrooms on them.
“Bought them today because it’s always freaking raining here, which is endearing but my poor feet get wet. You like?”
Edmund had to smile at how cute you were. He chuckled, walking closer to sit across from her. He grabbed the clean boot and inspected the art on it. He felt the rubber against his skin and admired how thick the boots felt.
“Perhaps if my intellectual level rested at five.”
You gasped in mock hurt, swinging the muddy boot at him. Edmund jumped back, quickly moving to avoid mud getting on his sweater.
“Aye, watch it!”
“You watch it, mister. Don’t be dragging on my new purchase unless you want meant with mud.” You raised your hand in a mock fist and shook it with purpose.
He smiled but rolled his eyes, “Fine, m’love. I’m sorry. They are bloody cute. And to be honest the purpose of them is genius on your part. Your feet reek when they’re wet.”
You laughed, “You’re the worst.”
“You’re the love of my life.”
You halted the cleaning, peeking up shyly at his statemenf. Sure you have said I love you but he had never said that you were the love of his life. That was a big deal and your heart was melting in the cozy kitchen.
“You compliment me now when I throw you an insult? You’re so charming, Ed.” She murmured, standing up to throw the dirty rag into the laundry basket.
He shrugged nonchalantly in an Edmund kind of way, “Read a document the other day. Insulting your significant other is a love language. I figure I’d skip the symbolism and confess my undying love instead.”
You leaned against the counter, a pouty frown on your face, “That is the sweetest thing you have ever said to me, hun.”
It’s a dream come true. You get to live in the world of your favorite book. With all your favorite characters. And you can even decide if you want to be human or fae or grisha or demigod or wizard or atlantian or whatever.
But there is one catch. You have to tell the characters about every fanart or fanfic about them you ever made, reposted or liked.
