Word count: 6k.
little bit of angst. little bit of smut. shameless fluff.
It was a long standing joke between the two of you. One that'd started somewhere between the first "I love you's" and your second anniversary. But now that you were coming up on your fifth, well, it was becoming a bit tiresome.
Harry and you had a cheeky, flirty relationship even after so long together and it was one of your greatest joys to get a bit of a rise out of him as it was his from you. So when he starts in again with the house hunting you've no reply but to stick out your left hand in the mirror and raise your eyebrow at him as he shaves his stubbled chin. You smirk, patting his bum on the way out of the bathroom with a sway to your hips.
"No ring, no house, Styles!" you call over your shoulder and you hear his deep chuckle all the way down to the kitchen.
He'd wanted to buy you a home for a while now, one that was simply yours, that you could share and build a life together in. He'd known for so long that you're the woman he wanted to have those things with, and besides, living together was more logical wasn't it? Why were you both paying rents and mortgages when you could just have the one? It wasn't like you ever spent a night apart when he was home, and it'd save you the trouble of having to go over and get his mail and water his plants every time he was away on tour.
But Harry knew the deal. It had been and would always be. Call you old fashioned but you just didn't want to own a home together without a ring. You loved Harry, wanted to spend your life with him and you knew he felt the same so it made sense to you that the next logical step was to get engaged. At the beginning, it hadn't been a big deal but now going on five years together it was starting to grate at you that he wasn't budging.
You understood of course, Harry was stubborn and before he met you he had a life plan. He'd witnessed first hand a broken marriage and he didn't want that for himself. He always thought he'd do everything else first, buy a home, have children, and then maybe ten years down the road get the damn piece of paper.
And that was fine for a while, until you started to see yourself as that woman for him, and he as that man for you.
Your plan didn't include waiting around for a proposal for another five years and popping out little Harry's without the commitment that marriage would bring.
It's the next morning while you're lounging that he gets a call from his realtor, bright and chipper when he answers with a sleepy "'Lo?"
You cuddle into the crook of his arm and trace patterns on his chest, feeling his words vibrate through his chest with every sentence. She's jabbering on about some modern two story in Malibu that Harry would love and you're pulling out every weapon in your arsenal to distract him. It's not until you're nearly swirling your tongue around a nipple and you can see him growing under the thin sheet that he finally hangs up with a hurried and thoughtless goodbye.
"What're you doin?" he coos at you, chuckling through a hiss when your teeth nip at one pebbled bud.
"Are you forgetting the rules?" you tease him, running your nails along the ridges of his tanned torso.
"Rules, eh? Boss of me, are you?" Harry laughs, using the arm around you to swat at your exposed bum.
"You're finally catching on," you answer cheekily, earning you another swat and a low growl from your now more than aroused boyfriend.
"Think you'd really like it, Love. S'got the pool and the open concept kitchen, even has a jacuzzi tub." He's trying to get back on the subject, though he struggles to swallow.
"That sounds perfect," you smile, dipping down to run your tounge around his quivering belly button, "for a couple that's engaged."
He laughs a booming, hearty laugh around your mischievous giggle.
"A'right. Christ, never thought I'd have this much trouble buying a girl a house."
"I like the simple things, darling. Three carats is just fine for me," you wink, your fingers swirling in the hairs at the base of his rigid cock.
"You're gonna kill me, woman." He's trailing off in a sigh when your mouth finally closes over the tip of him.
That'd been the end of the conversation for a while. You'd made love and dinners and plans for weekend trips and everything was peachy.
You woke this morning with a tickle on your nose, creeping into consciousness as your sleep heavy limbs try to bat away the itch. Slowly, light filters through your heavy lids to find Harry crouching over you with a wide smile across his cheeks.
"Mornin'" he chirps, as chirping as his slow drawl can be on sleepy mornings.
You grunt in distress as he starts pulling the comforter down from under your chin. He's jostling you playfully, knowing that there's only moments until you give in and blink your eyes fully awake enough to roll them at his antics.
"Can I help you?" you grumble, giving him a sleepy pout as you attempt to wrestle your wrists from his grasp.
"Get up," he tells you with a swift pat to the bum once you've managed to escape his hold.
"For what?" you whine, knowing whatever he's got in store can certainly wait since it's only half seven in the morning.
"Surprise, innit?"
Your leggings hit you in the face before you can respond, Harry's eyes going wide before breaking into boyish giggles.
It's chilly out and you tug your sweater tighter around your frame as you follow Harry's long gait to the Range Rover. He's already started it from his fancy and ridiculous key that you tease him about relentlessly but this morning you're grateful knowing that the car and your seat will be toasty for you when you slide in.
Harry's mood is...odd this morning, a secret smile playing around his lips every time you look over at him. His speed is just a tiny bit reckless and you're shocked when he doesn't stop you from connecting your music to the bluetooth in the car. His knee jerks incessantly as you drive, bouncing wildly and without any real cadence or rhythm.
He frequently likes to surprise you, to see your face light up with awe and excitement even if it's not that grand of a gesture, but he never acts like this. The only thing you can liken his behavior to is when he planned a surprise birthday party for you a few years ago, he got all your favorite people in one place in the swankiest hotel he could find. You've no idea what this means until suddenly it strikes you, he's going to propose.
That's why he keeps tugging your joined hands across the console to kiss your knuckles and why every time you ask him what's gotten into him he can't wipe the smile off his face, trying and failing miserably to keep it at bay.
Your anticipation is mounting with each mile that ticks off and you're nearly nauseous with your excitement by the time you hit the highway. You've no idea where these insane nerves have come from but you guess it's the years of hoping for this moment. Sometimes it felt as though it would never come but now it just makes it feel that much sweeter. You're mentally preparing yourself to remember every word he says and berating yourself for not getting a manicure when you meant to last week when he makes a right turn onto a residential street. Your stomach plummets. He pulls into a hidden drive, clearing to the most immaculate home you've ever seen. You could be sick as he throws the car into park, but Harry takes your silence for shock rather than disappointment.
Now you're standing in a sprawling entryway in the most beautiful home you've ever laid your eyes on and it's yours but you've never felt sadder in your life. And Harry's got a big smile on with some stack of paperwork but all it says to you is that he doesn't want to marry you.
"What do you think?" he beams, blissfully unaware of how you've just shattered into a million pieces.
"Harry..." you start but you're cut off by his rambling, tugging on you to show you something or other in the kitchen.
His surprise has got him all worked up, jabbering away excitedly as he shows you all the lavish features of the new house. He's so excited. You numbly follow him through three rooms before he asks you what's the matter.
"Take me home, Harry," you say in the smallest voice possible.
"You are home, Love."
"No."
"What'd ya mean 'no', Love, this is..."
"I can't do this," And for the very first time there's not a hint of irony or laughter in your tone when you tell him, "No ring, no house! I meant it, Harry!"
His face falls as he finally registers the cause for your reaction, "But, Babe..."
"I'm getting in the car," you call tersely over your shoulder.
The driveway is a long walk, what with Harry plying you every few feet for a chance, an explanation. Panic rising with each new plea.
You're not sure if you're numb or just feeling such a crushing weight of disappointment that you can't even begin to process it. Either way none of his words seem to stick. You pull open the door to the Range Rover, climbing into the seat and waiting quietly until Harry can lock up and get his keys with slumped shoulders.
You stay silent the whole ride back to your flat, determinedly gazing out the window and wondering how you'll ever recover from this. Brain aching and stomach in knots, a million thoughts are flying through your head.
You're a fair partner, Harry always compliments and thanks you for how understanding you can be, how willing you are to make compromises in your relationship. But maybe you've been too compromising, maybe Harry's taken advantage of that. If he doesn't want this, if he can't budge on this one thing that you really truly desire, he might not be the man you want so desperately for him to be.
"Baby, I thought you'd be happy," he says softly pulling up in front of your building.
"I told you how I felt." Your response is curt, not even sparing him a glance, you're not sure your fragile heart can take it.
"We were joking!" he defends, but it's clear from his tone he knows that's not quite true.
Your voice is calm and measured once you answer, "I didn't and I don't want to give you an ultimatum but it's getting harder for me, Harry, every year! Every birthday and Christmas that passes and you still won't commit."
"I am committing! Got the deed to a house in your name in my pocket, don't I?!"
You could scream at the insinuation, blood boiling at his childish argument, you both know that's not the point yet he's sticking to it.
"I don't want the house, Harry, I want you! You may think it's silly or old fashioned or...whatever else you want to call it but I need that security in us! And if you can't give me that, Harry I don't know what we're doing."
"Love, you don't mean that..."
"Maybe I do." With a sinking stomach you realize that's exactly what you mean, shaking him off and biting your lip against tears as you open the car door.
He's frantic then, unbuckling and racing around the side of the car on your tail as you trample up the walk.
He's pulling everything he's got in his arsenal yet he's still not given you the one and only thing you think could fix it so with a resigned sigh you buzz yourself in. He tries to weasel his way in with you but a hand on his chest stops him in his tracks.
"I...just need some space right now, okay?"
His face fractures at your resolute words, hurt in his eyes as he nods solemnly.
"Okay," he tells you, fighting every urge in his body to keep pressing and stop you from going inside that door without him, without an answer. But he respects your choice so he stays. Looks on pitifully as you climb your stairs, desperate and afraid for the first time since meeting you.
He slumps back to the car feeling desolate. You'd fought before, had your fair share of blowouts over the course of five years, but it's never felt like this. He turns the engine on but lets it idle, shoving his sunglasses into his curls and rubbing tightly at the bridge of his nose. He doesn't even know where to go if he did go somewhere. Harry thought he'd be showing you around your house right now, but at the moment the key he'd made for you on the dashboard just makes him feel sick.
He can't remember a time when you left him feeling like this, because you're home. You are safety and security and warmth and love. You're Sunday evenings with bad telly and tea the way his mum makes it. You can't shut him out because the only thing that feels natural in this world is when you're two parts of a whole and it's like he's lost without a paddle and you're leaving him to drown out here.
You've compromised, sacrificed, and put your life on hold at times for his tours. You've worked your schedule around his career, moved, and all this for five whole years. You've devoted yourself to him and even now when he's broken your heart you were still patient, still kind, you didn't blow up or tell him exactly where he could shove it.
It's just now clicking, gears turning as he realizes all along he can give you the world but what you need from him is to be brave. His faith, his trust, his heart. And maybe he's felt he's given it to you, over the years in many ways but isn't true selfless love about meeting your partner's needs?
You've been asking him for one thing all along and he's just now realizing that there's no reason but his own fear keeping him from giving it to you. His fear of losing you or fucking up somehow is what kept him from wanting to take the jump, but that's exactly what could take you away from him now. He loves you, he wants to spend every single day of the rest of his life with you, and he can't let it slip away.
He's running lights in his haste, driving like a madman for the nearest shop and he's renewed with a kind of vigor that he hadn't felt in ages. A sense of purpose, a mission to accomplish, a love that he needs to earned here and now. It's a simple band but it'll do for now. You'd probably want to pick your own ring, he thinks with a fond smile. They're sizing it quickly and it's wrapped rather haphazardly but Harry doesn't give a damn. He shoves the little box into the pocket of his coat and speeds back down the highway.
....
You're pretty much devastated. You'd eaten through almost a whole package of oreos though they were certainly stale by now. You didn't really taste them to be honest, standing at the kitchen counter, staring at the wall, and letting silent tears stream down your cheeks. You want to crawl under the covers and never come out but there's a thousand pictures of Harry's laughing, smiling, happy face in your bedroom and you don't think you can bear to look at them right now.
You'd thought that today would never come. Even though you'd had several long talks with Harry about how his parents divorce affected him and his thoughts on marriage you hadn't imagined it would truly stop him from getting married himself. You hadn't always had the best examples of marriage either but you were confident that what you had with Harry could go the distance.
Obviously, you were wrong. You're really going to regret this tomorrow, as you tuck into the second sleeve of cookies. But there's not really anything else to do is there? Not when your entire world is off its axis. You can't even sit, each time you move toward the table or the living room this paralyzing fear falls over you. Like moving or making even a squeak of a noise just makes this real. Like you're accepting your life without Harry.
You hadn't broken up, but it was inevitable wasn't it? Couples who can't work things like this out never last. So you stand still, gripping the counter till your knuckles go white, over and over like a broken record.
Eventually you make it into bed because at some point you come into semi-consciousness, feeling the bed move as someone climbs in beside you. It's just a moment though, not enough to truly stir you or to call into recollection that he's certainly not supposed to be here and certainly not supposed to be climbing into bed beside you.
It's not until sometime in the early morning dusk hours when you feel something softly moving against your sternum, a faint tinkling sound accompanying the movement. As you come to, you scratch at the tiny itch, surprised when your finger catches on something hard and smooth. With bleary eyes you pull it toward your face, surprised to find a gold ring looped through a chain around your neck. You stare for what feels like an eternity. The wheels in your head warming up and not quite out of the stupor of sleep. You're still contemplating what the fuck is going on when you hear a familiar half snore on Harry's side of the bed. Sure enough, he's there beside you, hair flopped in his face and body near hanging off the end of the bed, still in his t shirt and jeans and socks. He looks like he's gotten in without wanting to disturb your sleep but you don't feel much the same when you push at his shoulder incessantly.
"HARRY!" Your terse voice pierces the stillness of the air.
His eyes shoot open, looking directly at you in shock. He looks disoriented, slowly processing being awake. You don't let him for more than a moment before you're holding up the ring around your neck, "What the fuck is this?"
"Fucking shit!" he curses, sitting up to face your and rubbing coarsely at his face, "Was supposed to...ugh okay. Was supposed to be awake before you"
"You're not supposed to be here at all," you remind him, clearly having the night alone had done nothing to cool the emotions that were swirling around .
His mouth twitches, eyes flickering in hurt at your words.
"Will you give me one minute. Just the one? Need to tell you some things and then if you still want you can throw me out on my arse again."
"This better not be what i think it is."
"Give me a minute, babe, please?"
Panic is rising in your chest as he stares for a moment, gathering his thoughts unlike yours that are scattered in a million fragments. Suddenly the duvet isn't a welcome shield against the cold bedroom air, it's a suffocating presence and you feel sweat beading on your back and behind your knees. You won't let yourself imagine what this ring means, because after yesterday you don't think you can stand another disappointment. The only thing you keep thinking is it's a promise ring, he's giving you something to hold you over but that doesn't really cost him anything and your stomach is wrenching.
This is it. You're about to break up with Harry, the literal love of your life and the person who you've not been able to imagine a day without since you'd become his five years ago. He's about to be out the door and out of your life and with him every hope plan and dream you had for your relationship. You feel nauseous, and dizzy and fretful in way that's entirely unknown to you.
"I had a long think after you left, and maybe I didn't handle everything exactly right."
"So you give me a ring on a string?" you tell him sarcastically, you don't mean to be so harsh but you think it's just an adverse reaction to the swelling sadness inside you.
"No" he stops, looking puzzled, "what..what's that?"
"A promise ring, Harry, something else to string me along."
"It's not a promise ring, it's an engagement ring! Not like a nice one of course...I'll get ya a good one, if you want it.."
His sentence is muffled like you're underwater and you have to ask him to repeat himself in your shock.
"Yesterday was a fuck up, massively. Probably the worst thing I've done and that's really saying something innit?" He wants you to laugh, he's trying to be charming but you need him to be serious right now because you feel like you're standing on the edge of a very high diving board and if his words can't tether you to the ground you might fall over the edge.
Harry takes a deep breath, you see the determination in his chest as he prepares himself for his next words, "I know you're the person I want to spend the rest of my life with. Want to give you that big old house and fill it with our babies and have'ta take care on of you when you're old and decrepit, yeah? I can't imagine a world where i don't share everything that's good in it with you. I think, for all my trying to show you that, haven't really been listening have I, Darling?" He takes your hands in his, genuinely asking.
You shake your head as you try to will the tears from your eyes. You don't trust your voice enough to speak with how tight your throat is.
"Yesterday, the way that you..you didn't yell you didn't get mean, you still treated me with so much love and nothing like what I deserved. I don't deserve you for a minute."
"That's not true." You can't see him anymore through the tears that blur your eyes and you curse them because you want to see his face in this moment.
He smiles softly. With a thumb running over your shaking hands he continues. "I haven't been doing a good job of loving you, the way you need to be loved. But I want to, even if it scares me. And I'm asking you to give me the opportunity to try again, and to keep trying as your husband. Will you marry me, Baby? If anybody can make it, think it's us."
"You really want this, Harry? You're not just doing this for me?"
"I want this more than I ever thought possible. You make me want this, just took me a while to see that. And I'm sorry."
You tackle him to the bed in a hug, holding him tightly as your tears now fall freely from your eyes.
"Is that a yes?" he laughs, its muffled from where he's tucked his face into your hair.
"Of course it is!"
Harry's misty too when he pulls you back, hands cupping your cheeks securely as he searches your eyes.
"I love you so fucking much."
"I love you too, H," and you think as much as he loves you, he can't even begin to imagine how much you mean that.
"Can I put this ring on you now?"
You nod encouragingly, sitting up to undo the clasp around your neck. You hand it over with an eagerness unlike any you've ever felt. Those pesky incessant tears are itching your cheeks and you wipe at them furiously so you can fully appreciate this moment. When your eyes are clear you see Harry smiling warmly as he reaches for your left hand. A giggle bubbles from your throat as you let him take it. Your ears are ringing and your heart pounds as Harry slips the ring on your finger. He kisses your hand for good measure before letting you have it back to inspect the ring. Its nothing fancy but you thumb over it lovingly anyway, it means more to you than he'll ever know.
"Look nice with it on you. Should've done that ages ago." His face holds regret but you won't let it spoil the moment. Your hands are cupping his cheeks in a second, springing forward to straddle his lap.
"None of that," you make him promise, "I'm blissfully happy right now."
His mouth spreads into that easy grin, dimples digging deep into his cheeks as you search the green of his irises.
"Gonna marry you," he whispers like it's a secret. All you can do is nod, feeling tears welling once again. You'll surely break an all time record if you keep it up.
Harry's eyes aren't dry either though and it's with a choked up grunt that he confesses his love for you. It's just the two of you processing for a minute. Smiles hidden into warm, detergent scented necks. The warmth of his touch radiates through his sleep shirt but you want his skin. Wordlessly you slide your hands down the expanse of his back and tuck your fingers under the hem of the worn cotton. Harry gets the message and leans away so you can ease it off him.
"Undressing me, hmm?" You're already back in the crook of his neck but you nibble on his collarbone in retaliation for his teasing. Your own tank top feels like an unnecessary and unwelcome barrier as well and you tug it off just as easily.
You smirk at him when his eyes inevitably dip to take in your pebbled nipples from the cool air, "Now we're even."
"C'mere," is his response, pulling you into him by your waist.
His lips button over yours with a tenderness that only he is truly capable of. It's soft yet firm and though it sounds crazy you can feel his love for you in the way he presses closer, breathing you in without coming up for air. It's lovely, the feeling of his bare skin against your own. You can't help the toe curling satisfaction when his tongue darts out to swipe against your bottom lip. You tangle your fingers in the curls at his nape as he deepens the kiss. it's impossible to stop the near constant smiles that keep affecting your technique and Harry giggles when once again your lips spread into a smile against his.
I'm sorry," you laugh, exasperated but unable to stop the physical manifestation of your happiness.
"Lay down for me, okay?" Although he's gently cupping the back of your head and laying you gently against the mattress himself.
There's a literal twinkle in his eye as he lays half on top of you, trailing gentle fingers from your sternum to your trembling belly. "Wanna love on you."
"H," you start, but you're unsure of where you were going. It doesn't matter now because all thoughts evaporate into the air when his mouth meets yours again. This kiss is hungrier and you can taste the ardent desire on his tongue. He's gripping you, enveloping you in his touch as the guitar roughened pads of his fingers cup and massage your waist up to your breast.
Your own hands are busy finding purchase against his arms as you pull away to suck in a rush of air that you'd sorely been missing. He's unfettered, merely making a line of kisses from your jaw to the tip of your shoulder until your pulling him back to your mouth again. It's your leg looping around his hip that finally encourages him to roll on top of you. You grunt, out of satisfaction from the solid weight of him on top of you, his smell, his taste, everything about him enveloping you. His hair even creates a curtain with the locks that are getting longer around his face. Gently does he rock himself against the space between your legs. You feel that inevitable pull steadily growing as his rocking becomes more pronounced. You gasp, clenching around nothing when he thrusts up particularly harshly. His pants are hot and sticky against the column of your throat, pulling back to watch himself slide against you. If only these pesky layers could be out of the way. He could be drilling in right where you want him to and just the idea makes you moan hungrily, feeling your arousal pooling much faster than usual.
"Can we?" he asks you, his breaths are labored and there's a high flush on his cheeks. His mouth is obscenely pink and you can't answer before biting into the candy colored flesh and suckling it into your mouth a moment.
His groan is tortured, retaliating with rough pecks against your own lips that make you whimper.
"Babe?" The question in his voice full of so much restraint.
You nod at him, pulling his boxers over the round of his bum as you do.
There's ecstatic relief on his face as the hard length of him is freed, slapping up between you and leaving a wet smear against your cotton panties.
"Can have it anytime you want, H. It's yours now isn't it?"
Your words have the desired effect, he folds in on himself with a face full of agonized bliss.
"S'Mine, hmm?" He's sitting back on his heels, pulling your legs straight up against his chest and leaving generous kisses against any skin within reach. Harry noses against your ankle as he pulls your underwear from under you, sliding them with care up and off your legs.
When he lays back down against you, you could squirm from the anticipation. The head of him, hot and sticky bumps teasingly against your clit as he pulls you in for another hungry kiss. He should reach between you, just dip himself down a half an inch and then he'd be in you. Your hips tilt but find nowhere to go as he presses yours firmly into the mattress with his own.
You whine against his lip but he hushes you, "I'll fuck my cunt when I'm ready."
Your stomach flips at the harsh words, groaning wantonly and sliding your hands down to grip his ass. Finally, he relents and you have to pull away to gasp when the head of him slides deep into your walls. It's one long, solid push and for some reason it's better than it's ever felt. Some strange psychological phenomenon that you can't begin to unravel at the moment that's making him feel so much harder, fuller and silkier inside you. You think he feels it too if the look on his face is anything to go by. His eyes are squinted tight and his mouth hangs open lewdly. You know this won't last long, you're already hurtling toward your finish faster than you're prepared for. He hasn't even worked up a full rhythm yet but somehow the uneven sliding of his skin against yours is winding you up incredibly easily. Each slide of your nipples against his chest sends a spark straight to where he's currently pushing into you over and over.
Harry's grunting is deep and carnal, right against your ear that he favors to pull between his teeth for a nibble normally. He's far too lost in the sensation to do anything of the sort now, and his pace is near punishing as you struggle to find a thread of reality to hold on to. What started as a tingle in your legs is now pooling hot and fast in the center of you and you know you're seconds away from orgasm. His pubic bone is moving deliciously against your clit and for that your grateful because you don't think in this state you'd be able to unclaw your fingers from his shoulders to get a hand between you.
"M'gonna cum." Your voice barely a breath and all you can manage.
His answering grunt as he speeds up his thrusting his all the confirmation you need to know he heard you.
"C'mon," he encourages, his lips leaving your neck to suck a taut nipple between them greedily, "C'mon baby, cum on your cock."
Your scream is loud and unfamiliar to your own ears as his words effectively push you over the edge. Every muscle in your body tensing down to the tip of each toe. You ride the wave for a blissful few moments until the rush of drugged ecstasy goes into each limb. Uncontainable giggles bubble from your tortured throat and tears pool in your eyes. You're pulsing so strongly around him and you can feel what the restraint is costing him, fighting against his basest instinct until you've finished riding your high. It warms you with a strange fondness and it's why you tell him to go long before you're ready. Far too sensitive but too love drunk to care as he thrusts with a laser focus. Your fingers are tugging in his sweaty curls and small punctured whimpers keep slipping between your bitten lips. It doesn't take long before he's speeding up then stilling just as suddenly, pushing his finish as deep as he can with short punctuated thrusts and a long winded groan.
He quite literally flops on top of you in the moment that follows, making it even harder for your labored breaths to fill your lungs.
You whine but he doesn't budge, his strength having left him in a dizzying rush.
"H, please," you implore and with a groan he acquiesces.
"That was...." you can't even find the word you're looking for, transcendent feels cheap but it's the closest descriptor for how incredible it was.
He hums his agreement, reaching out to tug you against his side.
You roll against him, feeling the unpleasant slide of his finish between your legs.
"Engaged sex is fucking brilliant" he laughs, it sounds winded but you can't help joining in. You both turn into a ball of giggles, the elation seemingly endless in the wake of your orgasms.
"Can we call my mom? And yours?" you ask excitedly, your eye catching the ring on your hand where it rests against Harry's chest.
"You've still got my cum running down your leg, can you give me a minute before talking about mums?"
"We have to tell them!"
"We will!" he laughs, chucking your chin and pouting his lips for another kiss. you lean up on one elbow to grant his request. "Just give me one more minute to recover."
"Okay," you sigh happily.
It's more than a minute, about an hour actually before you call your mom's. They're elated and ecstatic and you smirk knowingly at Harry as his own mother can't stop saying "finally" about the news. By the time you wrap up with her your stomach is growling angrily, the sun already past the highest point in the sky and casting your room in bright afternoon light.
"Make me breakfast," you demand of him and he feigns offense.
"S'that anyway to talk to your fiancé?"
You smile dopily at each other, asking him to say it again.
"M'your fiance, love. And you're mine."
You moan happily at the statement, giddy not even beginning to describe the feeling inside you.
"Get up, got some plans to make don't we?" He's shucking his boxers back on at the end of the bed, looking at you with anticipation. "I'll fry us up some eggs and we can debate spring vs summer weddings."
"We're getting married in the fall," you tease, slipping your own discarded panties on but leaving the rest of you bare.
"S'the fall now? Expect me to wait a whole year before you're my wife?"
You pinch his bum when you tell him he didn't seem to mind waiting these past five years.
"Exactly, won't make that mistake again, will I? Gonna lock you down in holy matrimony as soon as you'll let me."
He's grinning and so beautiful you can't help but wrap your arms around him and pull him into you again. His hands rest comfortably at the swell of your bum as you lean back to look up at him.
"After this, maybe we can go by the house?" you say softly, suddenly feeling a little guilty for your reaction the day before. Now that you know where you stand there's an overwhelming excitement about it.
You can tell he's excited too, but he plays it cool, "Course we can, can go anytime we want."
"We're very spoiled aren't we?" you giggle, "Have our house and each other?"
"For always," Harry confirms.
And that, well its got a nice ring to it.
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Credit to harrieheaux on Tumblr
