“Hm, let’s test that theory again another time,” he mutters quietly because even in this situation, he simply can’t help himself. Still, he doesn’t want to waste any more time. While Sara may be ready to get the blindfold off, Neal is also more than ready to get rid of the nervousness he is so unused to by putting plans into action. So he ducks his head to press a quick kiss to her shoulder before he reaches up to undo the blindfold and reveal the set-up.
The fact that he’s in a three-piece suit wasn’t a giveaway thanks to the fact that this is just normal every-day attire for Neal. However, he hopes the rest of the scene is what makes his intentions more obvious. He’s positioned Sara so that the moment the blindfold comes off, she has a full view of the city. It’s late, so it’s more of a see of lights extending below them, as if the stars were shining from below instead of their normal place above. He’s still got an arm around her waist, but his eyes are trained on her face, watching for any twitch of an expression on it.
It may seem cheesy and cliche – the Eiffel Tower and all. But Neal’s got a little more of attachment to this location than just the fact that it’s practically out of a romantic movie. Talking the guy in charge into letting them up here after closing time was hard work and probably one of his most impressive jobs to date but an emotionally devastating performance and tragic ( and, to his credit, not false ) love story later, he’d gotten his way. Now that he’s standing here, the wind in their hair and the candles he’s meticulously set up illuminating the platform, he knows his efforts have been more than worth it.
Carefully, he steps back, finds Sara’s hand and tugs on it to get her to turn around and move a little further from the railing. His eyes find hers and he’s sure she must have caught on by now. Where he’s usually all smooth and collected, he can actually feel his heart racing right now – though unlike the few other times he’s felt like this it’s not the fear of getting caught that has him breathing a little faster today. It’s the hope that he’s finally been found.
A smile somewhere between nervous and telling tugs on his lips as he squeezes at her hand. Another deep breath and he finally, lowers himself down to one knee.
“Four years ago, I knelt before you very similarly,” he starts, eyes locked onto hers. “Back then, we were different people – literally. Since then, just about anything that can happen to two people happened to us. We lived in different countries, I died, you accused me of stealing at least four high profile art pieces.” He laughs a little and rubs his thumb over her knuckles. “Still, the moment I saw you again, it was like we’d never been apart. And I know going forward, I never want to be apart from you again either.”
A pause, face softening again. “You said you liked spending time in the clouds with me – so. Up here now, in the clouds of France, I want to ask you to take a chance on this other place, this other time, this other us. So.” For the first time since he started speaking, he takes his eyes off her, if only briefly to reach inside his suit jacket with his free hand and produce a ring box that he opens with a motion he has, admittedly, been practicing for weeks. Eyes locked back on her face, he swallows once before speaking again. “Sara Ellis, this time for real – will you do me the honor of marrying me?”
The view of the city is breathtaking when her world goes from dark to stunningly illuminated. She gasps, her breath audibly catching in her throat, as she looks around absolutely amazed by the view. About half-way up, Sara takes note of how the air gets thinner, but she never wants to ruin such a surprise for Neal, especially when she’s genuinely astonished to see the man on one knee before her.
When he starts, she can’t help but laugh. Although fake, that proposal is something she remembers fondly, and when Neal was dead, she held onto like it was the only memory she had left of him, the promise that in another lifetime they would live, love, and grow old together. She promised Neal, as she watched his casket lower into the ground, that she’d join him to start their own story soon. As he continues to speak, she can vaguely remember how upset she was to see him again, re-invading her life like he had the right to do so and how long it took for her to admit that she wanted him to. The amount of times since they parted she’s been engaged because the adventure isn’t quite the same, and the pull with others not the same as it was -- and is with Neal.
Her breath catches in chest, suddenly realizing how watery her eyes are and how utterly embarrassing that is. She grins, taking a second to look up and look at the city of Paris around her, think of the world around her, and being grateful that the universe gave them one more shot.
Sara feels her grin widen at how smooth he reveals the box, still noting some slight nervousness in him. (One of her greatest prides is being able to notice these things in Neal Caffrey.) She tries to blink away the tears as elegantly as possible, too fully aware of the few tears that have already spilt onto her cheeks. Never breaking eye contact, she nods and speaks in a whisper. “Yes.” She swallows, trying to gain composure. “I will. As many times as you ask.”
