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Should auld acquaintance be forgot and never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot and days of auld lang syne.
For auld lang syne, my dear, for auld lang syne,
We'll take a cup o' kindness yet, for auld lang syne…
And there's a hand my trusty friend, and gie's a hand o' thine!
And we’ll take a right gude-willie waught, for auld lang syne.
For auld lang syne, my dear, for auld lang syne,
We'll take a cup o' kindness yet, for auld lang syne!
The warmth of not only the old year passing, but years previous began a soft glow in your heart. The love and affection and care you'd received and given seemed to reflect in you, that moment. You turned to face Allistair, a fond grin playing about your lips. The Scotsman returned the grin with a smile of his own, ruffling your hair boyishly before drawing you close with a hand slung around your waist.
The giggle that escaped your lips was echoed by Allistair's own chuckle, which made his whole chest vibrate. You closed your eyes and rested your cheek on his chest, tracing nonsensical patterns into his clothes. Allistair traced images of his own into your bare upper arm, glad to have you in his arms.
In the glittering vestiges of the setting sun, the simple diamond in the ring on your left hand shone, no matter how you turned it, as it rested on Allistair's chest. Allistair caught you gazing at the ring, and a swelling of happiness and love and pride filled his entire being. He took that adorned left hand in his own calloused hands, an unconscious smile highlighting his face more than the sun ever could. It made him look and feel centuries younger, like the youthful lad he used to be.
His own band of silver clacked against your ring.
“A lot has changed this past year,” you murmured, tucking your head under Allistair's chin.
Allistair guided your chin up with all gentleness, his hypnotizing emerald eyes drawing you in deeper and deeper until you lost yourself completely in the grassy abyss. Your breaths mixed together and feathered across each others' faces. Your own hands reached up to trace his strong jaw, gently skimming over the faint scars on his face. Allistair brushed his thumbs over your cheekbones, his gaze flickering down to your lips briefly before returning to your eyes: His favorite color since the day he met you.
“Aye,” he rumbled in that low voice that made excited little lightning bolts travel up and down your spine. “But Ah wooldnae hae it onie other way.”
And with that, the both of you leaned in and melded your lips together in a kiss. Your bliss was one, and the moment was perfect. Your toes curled inwards the longer he pressed into you, and your fingers twirled with the hair on the back of his neck. Allistair held you close and traced tiny circles into the small of your back.
As you parted, resting your foreheads against each other, you smiled with a sigh, “Happy New Year, my love.”