Harry turns Niall’s hand over in his, tilts their fingers at an angle so the early morning sun shining through the bay window they’re sat on catches the glint of the diamonds encrusted on the band of the ring he’s just given Niall.
“You look happier than I’ve ever seen you, Harry.” Niall’s face is pale and red, blotchy; his eyes are bloodshot and his nose is pink and his hair is a flat mess and his clothes are wrinkled and he’s beautiful. “You look like you’ve finally gotten everything you’ve ever wanted.”
And yeah, maybe he has. Finally.
“It’s always been you, you know,” Harry says, out of breath and scrambling to put into words what he feels for Niall; he brings Niall’s hand up to his mouth and presses a kiss to the ring, relishes the cold metal and Niall’s heat all at once. “Always you.”