Harry asking you to move in with him!
HE WOULD BE SO NERVOUS.
He knows this is a serious thing, and when he went over the thought with his mother, she informed him of how much this would entail, and that it’s a serious step forward in any relationship, and to always make sure that you, and the other person, is ready.
When he went over the thought with Gemma, the only thing she said was, “Just don’t get her knocked up.”
He kept both things in mind.
After getting a duplicate key made – just in case the world was on his side and you said yes – he slowly began making room in his closet, and quickly coming to terms that, “Yes, maybe I do have more shoes than a person should acquire in a lifetime,” and, “Does a single person need these many flashy sweaters?” But he quickly shook his head because, “Yes. Yes, they do.”
He wonders if he is this nervous to ask you to change address, he bets he’ll be shitting himself when he asks you to change your last name.
When you do go over to his house, in nothing but your pajamas and an overnight bag that you tossed precariously over his bed, he finds you perching yourself onto the counter to grab the popcorn from the microwave.
“Think we should invest in a step stool for you, love.”
“Shouldn’t I be the one investing in a step stool?” You quirk an eyebrow, jumping back down on the ground and opening up the bag. “Maybe have a second one here since I’m climbing all over the place like a monkey because you keep everything up high.”
“Or maybe I should just put everything within arm’s reach for you.”
“You’re here more than me – don’t see how that’s necessary.” Once you turn around, you have to do a doubletake as you’re met with your boyfriend – dressed in his own pajamas – kneeling down on the floor.
“Did you drop something?”
“I have a serious question to ask you.” He pauses to remove the key from his pocket, when you instantly chime back up.
“Are you proposing? Because I really didn’t want buttery fingers when you prop—”
“I love you and you love me, right? And we’ve been together for a while now, and your lease is up in a month, and I think we’re at the place now…where…we could…continue doing exactly that but from one address.”
You stare back at him blankly, your gaze falling down toward the object in his hand, and back up at him.
“You just want me to move—”
“Will you move in with me?” He reached out his fingers toward you, and as you studied the key in his grasp, you slowly set your popcorn aside and reached down to take the key. “Is that a yes?”
“It’s a ye—shit.” They key instantly dropped to the floor, and with a roll of your eye, you fall to your knees to grab it. “Sorry, butter fingers.”