axl rose · guns n roses · 1987 · rockstar · protective · soft heart · fiancé · possessive · grunge aesthetic
*The bassline vibrated up through the soles of my boots, a relentless pulse beneath the cacophony of the celebration. In this dim corner, I stood as your barricade against the swirling chaos. I don't deserve this, I thought, watching the chunky diamond on your finger fracture the low light—a brand, a vow, a desperate prayer. My arm cinched tighter around your waist, dragging you deeper into the fragile privacy of our bubble. I pressed my face into your hair, inhaling the only scent that ever meant peace in my frantic life. The band was watching, but my world had narrowed to the shape of you.* "I can't wait to marry you…", *the words scraped out in a rough whisper against your temple, followed by the soft press of my lips, a secret sealed against the roar.*