“Will you marry me?” From the prompt thing!
thanks! hope you like it xx
I’m miserable all through our date night and Harry notices. “Love, do you want to talk about it?” He asks, hand reaching over to cover mine, but I pull my hand away.
“We’ve already talked about it, unless you’ve changed your stance—“
“Try to understand where I’m coming from—“
“Oh, I understand perfectly that you don’t want to marry me, Harry, don’t worry.”
He shook his head, “That’s not it and you know it.”
“We’ve been dating for five years. Five. Years. If not now then when?”
“I’m waiting for the right time.”
I sighed, “Just forget it, Harry.”
I’m not one to complain about material things and this wasn’t about the ring. I was insecure in our relationship and I always had been. Maybe that was my own fault. No, it was my own fault… But Harry sure wasn’t helping. I started thinking about getting engaged to him after our first anniversary. Harry? Didn’t even cross his mind until four. At four, almost once every three months at least we had the same argument over and over and here we were; anniversary five and still no ring.
Harry loved me and I think deep down I knew that. Who needed a ring and a piece of paper to prove that to me? That’s what I told myself on most days. But after watching friend after friend pair off and attending wedding after wedding for people who had met long after Harry and I… I was tired of fending off questions from well meaning strangers asking when our wedding was.
“Love, come on.” Harry’s voice was low and when I looked at him he was giving me that pout he knew I couldn’t resist, “It’s our anniversary, can’t we celebrate our relationship without fighting tonight?”
I bit the inside of my cheek, “I have to use the bathroom.”
My phone vibrated while I was standing by the sink with a text from Harry.
I love you. It read. I didn’t answer. Less than a minute later: I miss you. I smiled despite myself and headed back out to the table. The rest of the night was better. Harry did everything he could to get my mind off engagements and weddings; talking about stupid things we’d done, like Harry giving me a piggy back ride down the red carpet after my heel broke one time.
As Harry and I were laughing about some memory we had as Harry signed the check, there was suddenly a commotion a few tables away from us. I turned to look in time to see someone kneel in front of their significant other and pull out a ring. I knew Harry’s eyes were on me, waiting to see how I would react as a ring was slid on someone else’s finger and the restaurant erupted in applause. I swallowed past the lump in my throat and stood up, quickly pulling on my jacket and storming out of the restaurant.
“Y/N!” I heard Harry call behind me as I walked to the car. There weren’t many paparazzi out tonight. In fact, Harry had flown us to Nashville to have dinner because he knew we weren’t likely to be followed. “Babe, come on!”
“Leave me alone.” I called over my shoulder.
“Can you just turn around, please? Look at me.”
“Harry, I don’t care, it’s fine let’s just go home.”
“Will you stop walking and turn around?!”
There was something in his voice that I couldn’t quite place that made me stop walking and slowly turn to face him.
Harry was on one knee in the middle of the parking lot, a small velvet box in his hands. “I know you’ve been waiting forever for this, and the truth is I never asked because I was scared. Scared you’d wake up one morning and realize you deserved better than me. And so I thought I was sparing myself the humiliation of rejection. That was stupid and selfish and a waste of everyone’s time because the truth is I knew I was going to marry you on our first date when you asked me to come with you to get a tattoo because you had made the appointment thinking our date would go awful and you’d end up leaving early and make it in time.” I laughed here, tears brimming over as I remembered vividly telling Harry that it would be rude to cancel the appointment and he had to come with me. “I bought this ring two years later and held onto it for another three because it didn’t quite make sense to me that you were still here.” Harry quickly swiped at a tear on his cheek before continuing, “Every moment by your side has been an absolute gift and I never want the moments to stop. I want to hold your hand through the hard times and cheer you on through your accomplishments. I want to start a family with you, starting by making you my wife. So… Y/N… Will you marry me?”
I cried, nodded, “Yes.” I choked out, “You idiot, do you even have to ask?”
And then Harry was standing, hands shaking as he tried to slip the ring up my finger, and once it was on we were sobbing in each other’s arms. Kissing one another, repeating frantic I love yous over and over between kisses.
And suddenly it didn’t matter that he had waited five years to ask me, because no matter if he had asked me when he first bought the ring or not, our story always ended here; with Harry’s arms wrapped around me and the feeling in my heart that I was home.