As we go northward, winding through the Eildon Hills, I think of the night that awaits us. I wanted this night to be nothing more than she and I – us, within the solitude of nature. I want only to consummate our marriage to the sound of the breeze against the loch, while nighttime animals play a gentle symphony of their own in the subtle sounds of eventide. I wish to love my wife and be loved by her without the sounds of the city drowning out her softest cries. I immediately thought of a place I had only seen in passing, inquired of in a state of curiosity.
The retreat is what some would refer to as rustic. The idea came to me in the most perfunctory fashion when my wife decided to wait until the summer months for our honeymoon. Although I felt trepidation at not providing Caitie with everything that she might truly deserve, she easily persuaded me with those gorgeous eyes and the weight of logic. Although we spoke not of it, I understood all too well. The thought of seeing my wife struggle with childbirth in an even stranger land than the one in which we live or the one from which I hail instilled fright within me.
When we pull up, I look over to gauge her reaction. Under this tree it is my hope that the Gypsy caravan before Caitie reminds her of other edifices of wood. I hope she doesn’t find it too rustic; from this vantage point, she cannot see the gorgeous silks and other various cloth imported from the Far East and from Prague. She cannot yet see the magnificent colours and woodwork, the ornate touches in this space made just for two… (or perhaps more, though I really hope we don’t have visitors on tonight of all nights).
In this caravan, located in a woodland garden that overlooks the gorgeous loch, with amenities such as a stocked kitchen, lush bathroom and a wood burning stove to stave the cold, I hope to see very little of any room aside from the bedroom on this glorious night.
@CaitMcCalister As the sun shines on her hair, illuminated like an ancient goddess, she spins and laughs; all I see is her. In a moment of total clarity and synchronicity, I hear the beginning strains of music in the distance and I realize that my life has been building, culminating, leading toward this day. She looks over her shoulder at me and I wonder if it’s possible to be consumed completely, in my entirety by the happiness that I feel. The ocean calls out behind her and I hold out my hands… Right now, I want nothing more than to dance with my bride on this day made just for us.
Favorite Shots of Sophia Myles | Independent Magazine Shoot
@CaitieAston being beautiful as ever…
When your pregnant fiancee is the sexiest pickle craver in the entire world, what is the best thing that you can do for her while in London? Welllllll, there are a lot of things one could do, but with being in this unique city, but we couldn’t overlook Barbecoa. Jamie Oliver’s restaurant specializes in barbecue, but they have some of the most amazing pickles available. I hope that my beautiful Cait will enjoy them, among the rest of the faire, to only compliment the amazing time that we are having in London!
@CaitieAston and I arrived in London this afternoon after a somewhat emotional separation from my parents. Of course, I will miss them and I venture to say that my love will, as well, but I was and still am quite excited to share the insanity and beauty of this city with her. London. This place may not have the ghosts that New York City has for me, but it was the city in which I grew up. I hope she enjoys the magic of this ancient, wonderful place as much as I do.
First stop… our hotel.
-smirks- @SimonMcCalister
-secretly always wanted to be ginger- @JulieMcCalister
(Source: alwaysawayout)
I hope to always keep him this happy…
You make every moment of every day happy for me.. and guess what? I know that you always will..
Now to desperately try to return the favor…
(Source: dunderception)
*peeks in between my legs* I think @SimonMcCalister is already on that… *squirms and moans in pleasure*
-Wellllllllllll-… I do what I can for the woman I love, Caitiecat… or, in this position, would I be the one considered a cat?
-unable to fight a smirk that surfaces on his glistening lips-
It’s good to be the cat.
