Another drabble for my writing project with Fagocytosis. The pairing is our Mirror, Mirror OTP, those guards who weren't sure if Snow was allowed out of the castle and pinky swore not to tell anyone about it, and the prompt was "pinky swears." Sorry if this gets confusing, they never had names and I didn't want to come up with names for them, so I didn't. Oops. Hope you enjoy it anyways!

They counted their relationship in pinky swears.

Most didn't mean anything, it was just something they did.

I'll be home in an hour. Pinky swear? Pinky swear.

I'll do it tomorrow. Pinky swear? Pinky swear.

Countless pinky swears for countless moments. This one was special, though. The festivities were in full swing around them, beautiful ladies and dashing men all dancing gracefully in celebration of the happy couple.

The two of them stood together, identical in their uniforms, helmets obscuring their faces. They could have been any guards at any wedding. No one cast them so much as a passing glance as they murmured quietly to one another.

He heard his partner say something, but even straining his ears, he couldn't pick out the exact words.

"What?" he asked.

"We'll be next," he repeated, almost sheepishly. He saw his head dip slightly, as if out of embarrassment.

He kept his head facing steadfastly forward, but wanted so much to turn and look at him. He smiled, a full grin spreading across his features, cheeks crying out for the reprieve he was unable to grant. He swallowed back the tears he could feel fast-approaching and replied through the lump in his throat, voice threatening to fail.

"Pinky swear?"

"Pinky swear."