@kingdonmicrofic | july 21: lounge | 493/462 words | warnings: infidelity | ao3
Mel finds the ring while they’re sitting in an airport lounge. They’re flying back to UPitt after spending going home for spring break – it had been a shock when they found out that they were from the same area a full year into their friendship – and Frank has just asked her to grab something from his weird colourful backpack when she notices the velvet square-shaped box.
“Frank, what’s this?” she asks, her hand trembling as she holds up the box to his face, his arm over her shoulder tightening and his cheeks growing pale in response. When he stays eerily silent, she continues, quietly, “Are you planning to–?”
She trails off, can’t get herself to utter the words.
“Yes,” Frank says finally, with a sigh, as he grabs the box from her fingers gently and opens it so she can inspect the ring, a simple rose gold band with a small princess cut diamond. “Do you like it?”
“It’s perfect,” Mel breathes, tears burning behind her eyes. “I didn’t know you were thinking about it.”
“I mean, we’ve been together for like three years,” Frank replies, but he doesn’t sound happy or excited. It sounds like he has to do it, like it’s not what he wants. It breaks Mel’s heart, especially when his eyes are pained when he murmurs, “It’s the right thing to do, isn’t it?”
“Right,” Mel agrees, a lump in her throat forming.
“Unless there’s a reason why I shouldn’t?” he asks quietly, and something indecipherable flashes in his eyes as he stares at her, his gaze intense and stormy.
It’s enough for something to catch aflame in Mel’s chest, enough for her to muster the courage to utter, “Abby is the one, right?”
Frank considers this for a moment, eyes still unreadable, and then shrugs. “I’m not sure, actually.”
“Then don’t marry her,” Mel declares, and she feels her cheeks flush as Frank leans in a little, his gaze trailing all over her face before settling on her lips. Her heart skips in her chest and she takes a deep breath, before continuing, “You should be with someone you’re sure about.”
She watches as his lips curve up in a smirk as he leans even closer, his breath fanning her face as a large hand settles on her jaw. “You’re right, I should.”
And before she knows it, his lips are on hers. She immediately responds by fisting his shirt in her hands, listening to his quiet groan as he deepens the kiss and pushes his tongue into her mouth. They only pull apart when a voice overhead announces that their plane is boarding, grinning at each other stupidly as they do.
“Congratulations,” a woman close to them says, and Mel suppresses a giggle as she looks down at the velvet box that’s still in his hands.
Frank’s eyes twinkle as he turns to the woman, not bothering to correct her. “Thanks. I’m the luckiest man alive.”
