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***Sebastian's POV***

Watching Mark sleep is one of my favorite pastimes. He is so adorable. His hair has a wild personality of it's own as he dreams of whatever is causing the small smiles that form every so often on his face, causing those smile lines that improve his sex appeal in droves. His cinnamon strands have misplaced themselves into messy spikes in some areas and tiny swirls in others. The look of peace on his face makes me feel like he is in a happy space. I love knowing that he is relaxed, resting. He has earned it.

I lay on my forearm with my hand tucked behind my head, just watching as he gently breathes. The tiny flutter of his eye lashes makes his masculine features take on a very youthful glow. My fingers itch to stroll along the stubbled path of his jaw line. In all honesty, I just want to cover him with kisses until he awakens to bless me with his beautiful blue eyes.

Holding back the temptation, I tuck my hands further into the crevices that act as restraints. Mark is none the wiser to my desires, my struggles. He sleeps effortlessly as my legs are tangled with his under the cotton sheets. I squeeze his calves just a little bit tighter for reassurance that he is real. It's often hard for me to believe that we have made it this far.

It's not our relationship, per sey, that astonishes me. It's just the amount of obstacles that have risen to stand in our way that amaze me. With each one, Mark has been here to be my stronghold in the thrashing waves of tribulation that we have faced. This man has been my blessing in so many forms.

I always knew that I wanted a family, a husband. That was an easy dream with flames fanned by fantasies. It's nothing to imagine a world where someone loves you. It's effortless to place an invisible placeholder into the empty space in all your untold stories.

It's a whole other world to live it. Breathing in your person, feeling the touch of their fingertips upon your skin, that's where magic happens. Suddenly, life is poured into the imaginary form. You find yourself standing in wonderment of exactly what you have obtained.

When rolling over in the morning, to open your eyes, becomes exciting, replacing the dread of facing another empty day, that's when you feel it deep in your bones. That's where love wraps it's arms around you. That's when every moment of pain is suffocated, snuffed out by the reality of prayers that have been answered. That's when you finally understand why your mom is still single after losing the love of her life.

Simply put, I couldn't imagine a life where Mark and I do not exist. We just are. It's absolutely crazy but, we just are.

What I never accounted for in all my youthful worlds that I built for my future, was cancer. You always think it can't be you. If one out of ten get it, you must be in the nine that does not. It's common sense, right. You have to be in ninety percent. You couldn't possibly be the one. What sense would that make?

Perfect sense. It has to be someone. It had to be me.

In the early stages of my diagnosis, denial was my friend. As the pain settled into my bones, as the weakness took my breath, as every day of watching myself morph into something foreign to me passed, the denial was replaced with fear. Tangible, living, breathing anxiety filled me. I started counting stars, wondering how many would burn away before I myself became a fading light in this beautiful world. I began to accept that I may not get my dreams.

That's when you make way for sorrow, depression and finally death. It's like you step to the side to let the angel of death take his rightful place leaving you a soulless body where you were once so full of hope, vigor and life. That's when you cave to the statistics. You have doubt that this could go any way aside from the worst. You begin preparing for the inevitable.

That's when you allow fear to grow. Pain becomes unbearable. The days feel like months while the weeks feel like years. You find your weakness quickly when faced with the realization that you weren't ready to be finished yet, a circumstance outside of your control might say that you are.

I pushed away everyone that I loved both new and old. I decayed as I became a recluse just so I wouldn't have to face the pain in my family's eyes when I had to tell them that although I looked healthy on the outside, inside my body had waged war on itself. I didn't want to deliver death's parcel. So, I didn't.

I still regret that.

Knowing how my body finally found strength to fight against the toxicity in my system as each family member stood up to support me is why I feel remorse for not sharing my news. Pushing Mark away, because I couldn't trust anyone to stay, seemed like the right choice at the time. Now, I'm not so sure that I didn't rob us of more time together. It's the what ifs that still haunt me in quiet moments.

I can't change it. I don't even know if I would. Maybe exactly as it played out was written by the Lord before I ever took my first breath. We will never know. I'm okay with that.

That day when his blue eyes matched mine after so long apart, I knew without any doubt that Mark was my person. You can't feign that emotion. You can't fabricate the feeling of being full after so long of being empty.

When his fingers touched my skin, I knew. The flames that danced in soft tufts across my flesh told me everything I wanted to know. When his lips sent tingles to my spine, causing my heart to kick off for a marathon, I knew. When his heartbeat finally pressed against my chest to call out to my own like a siren call for lost lovers, I was sure. Mark is my person.

Yet, I have held off on certain aspects of our relationship. When Mark brings up kids, I shy away from the subject. I didn't know if I would be around to watch them grow. That thought brought me pain that became unbearable. The unknown became a blanket of darkness while Mark only saw hope. Funny how God brings somebody who will balance out your darkness. Mark is the light when I am unable to make it out of the caves of what if's.

I know he has hinted at marriage. You can't even imagine the nerves that played orchestras of anxiety in my chest on our Anniversary. I didn't want to have to tell Mark no. I'm not sure I would have had the strength. I didn't want to tie his soul to my own not knowing if we would get a month, a year, ten or forever. If something were to happen to me, I wouldn't want him to deteriorate waiting to meet me behind Heaven's gates. I would want him to be free to move on.

When my doctor called yesterday to tell me my latest test results, I was so scared to hear what he had to say. Thoughts infiltrated the peace that I had sustained for long enough to get comfortable. I panicked. My heart raced, my breathing accelerated. My stomach did back flips, flopping so uncontrollably that phantom spasms became overbearing, sending pulsing flutters that pushed acid to my tongue.

I worried for nothing. It was good. It was real good. I am in the first stages of remission with odds that far outweigh the possibility of a repeat diagnosis.

The breath I took I was audible. The air whooshed from my lungs on a long sigh. It felt like my lungs finally filled to capacity. The exhale was magnificent, taking with it all the anxiety of the last year and a half. I have been given another chance on this planet. I won't take it for granted.

The thought brings me back to the man who lays beside me. I slowly let my eyes trail over his entire form before landing on his stunning face. He's staring at me. I can't imagine for how long I neglected to acknowledge him.

"Good morning." Mark stretches with a silent groan allowing his shirt to pull up away from his boxers. The beautiful dip in his hips exposes itself, leaving me to drink in the skin that leads to his happy trail.

I ghost my fingers over his hip before sliding my hand up his shirt. Falling forward, I land on his chest to nestle my face against his thumping heart.

"Morning love." I whisper into the cotton. My breath becomes trapped between the layer of clothing that shields his muscles from stirring my arousal.

"What were you thinking of?" Mark wraps his arms around me, cradling me to his perfect form.

"You." I answer honestly. It's always him. Since that first moment, in the bar, it had always been Mark Fletcher who occupied my many thoughts.

"You're so adorable." I feel his lips on the crown of my head. The kiss calms me further than I had expected. My body melts to leech against his.

"Maybe." I playfully scratch his stomach while inching his shirt up. I honestly want him naked. I mean, he's mine, so that should be allowed.

Somehow reading my thoughts, Mark deftly maneuvers his shirt from beneath me as he slides it off from his head. He tosses it along the side of the bed as I take my place at his heart once again.

"What about me?" I can imagine the smirk. I can envision his ego multiplying at the thought. He can be so arrogant, in the most acceptable ways.

"Nothing I haven't already said. I just love you, baby. I'm so thankful to be in your life, sharing this." I snuggle closer as an example of my many blessings.

"As if there was a question I would have left you alone." Mark picks up my head, bringing his lips to softly touch mine. That familiar feeling of wholeness seeps down inside of me.

We kiss quietly until I am sure that I have taken enough to fill me for the time being. The peace is a good indicator that we are on the right track.

When Mark separates us, his eyes shine with mischief. I love those eyes. They make promises that I can't wait for him to keep. He slowly pulls away, peeling away layers of clothing as he shifts around the bed around me. When he completes the process of removing all his clothes, he begins taking mine.

I know I should be lustfully taking in his sexy flesh, I just can't for a moment. I am captivated in the playful glint in his eyes. They sparkle as he looks me over from head to toe. I watch as they dance with excitement. I could never tire of knowing that I create that reaction in him.

I reach my hands out to him to pull him close. The moment our skin collides, I know I am a goner. I feel my soul pulling his towards mine. I feel my soul giving away parts of me without my expressed consent, not that I would decline.

It's when his hands card into my hair that I feel it. I didn't think I was ready. There it is. The confirmation that I have lost myself over to Mark Fletcher pins me still against the bed. Those reassuring breaths come in succession. The perfect storm of peace and flames collides to shower me in the knowledge that I am ready to finally accept that this is my forever. I am ready to acknowledge that there are no more obstacles. I'm ready to be free of the burden of unknowns to take the next step towards forever.

I'm going to ask Mark to marry me.