The morning sunlight streamed through the window in soft gold, casting lazy shadows across the floor of their cottage. Mirio blinked awake, yawned, and stretched—then paused.
The room was... decorated.
Delicate, floating bubbles hovered in the air, catching the light and scattering faint rainbows across the walls. Rose petals, perfectly suspended in spheres of water, drifted slowly like lanterns. The air was warm, damp, and sweet—like fresh flowers after a rainstorm.
Then he saw her.
Lily stood at the center of the room.
She was glowing.
Not just her usual soft shimmer—today, her entire body pulsed with radiant white and pearlescent swirls. Her slime was translucent and smooth, shaped delicately into a flowing gown that hugged her chest and flared out like liquid silk around her hips and legs. The dress was her, and it shimmered as she moved, trailing behind her like an endless veil of softly waving jelly.
Tiny strands of her slime hair curled into delicate loops, forming a translucent tiara atop her head. Her cheeks were tinted a light pink, and her tentacle-hair formed soft spirals cascading down her back like styled curls.
Mirio sat up slowly. "Lily…?"
She stepped forward without a word, the hem of her gooey dress rippling with every movement.
Then she reached behind her back and pulled forward a single item—a framed picture.
Their wedding day.
It had been a simple ceremony. No priests, no crowd. Just him, her, and a pond that shimmered under starlight. She'd worn a lily crown and wrapped herself around him like a blanket. He could still remember the warmth of her body, the way her core pulsed against his chest, the whispered word she'd said only once that night:
"Yours."
He stared at the picture in her hands.
Then at her.
She had recreated it.
Perfectly.
Down to the way her body shaped the dress. Down to the curve of her lips.
And now she stepped closer, chest rising and falling as her form pulsed with emotion. Her wedding dress reshaped at the waist into a tighter bodice, her breasts pushing slightly outward under a delicate neckline made entirely from tiny looping strands of slime.
One of her hair-tentacles reached out and gently took his hand.
She pulled him to his feet.
He stood before her, heart pounding, suddenly remembering everything about that day—the way her eyes glowed in the dark, the way she'd clung to him afterward, how she'd murmured "mate" like a promise carved into stone.
And now here she was again.
Renewing that promise.
Her other hand rose up and gently touched his cheek.
Then she moved.
With one slow, graceful motion, she slid her arms around his shoulders and pulled him into her chest. Her wedding dress rippled and swelled, her body pressing softly into him, molding to his skin as her arms tightened.
Then she kissed him.
It wasn't wild or teasing.
It was soft.
Sure.
The kind of kiss that said, I still choose you.
When she pulled away, her chest pressed to his once more, she let her feeler tap his forehead—and he felt everything.
Her memories.
That day.
That night.
The warmth of being wrapped around him while stars watched overhead.
The way her core beat faster when she heard his voice.
The quiet joy that bloomed inside her when he touched her shoulder in passing. When he laughed. When he kissed her forehead.
And today—how proud she was that she could wear love for him. That she could shape it, hold it, express it without ever speaking a word.
She let go only to sink slightly to her knees, placing her hands on his hips, pressing her cheek to his chest.
Then, slowly, she reshaped the bottom of her dress into a long couch of jelly and guided him down into it. The soft, pillow-like material cradled them both, wrapping them in warmth and light pressure as she curled beside him, one leg wrapping over his, her hair draping over his shoulders.
Her slime body slowly coated his back like a blanket.
She hummed low and steady, and the hem of her dress curled up around them both like a veil.
Then she said it again.
Soft.
Sure.
"Yours."
Mirio's arms closed around her, fingers sinking gently into her body.
"And you're mine," he whispered.
He kissed her forehead.
The petals drifted above them like floating stars. Her slime tiara shimmered.
And in that moment, neither of them spoke.
They didn't have to.
They were already married again.