THE QUESTION
a/n: okay so i'm kinda sorta out of my reblog-only purgatory and i finally have some motivation to post on here again!! requests are now being accepted again and i'll try to get the motivation to write them!! i've missed u lot :)
Word Count: ~700
Warnings/notes: not proofread, hotch being happy?
<3: aaron hotchner x reader
“Are you breaking up with me?”
You had to admit, you hadn’t wanted the question to arise so quickly and upfront, but there it was, floating in front of the two of you.
It was a rather romantic location to be broken up with; a picnic in the park on a nice spring afternoon. But Aaron was nice and he wouldn’t break up with you over the phone, or at home where you would have to leave and then come back for your things awkwardly. Or worse: be overheard by Jack.
It took Aaron a few seconds to comprehend what you said, “W-What?”
Ah. He hadn't expected to be caught out so early. Well, you were nothing if not merciful - Aaron did not have to let you down slowly if you did it for him. You'd felt as though he'd been leading up to it for a while now.
He had gone out a few times and been cagey about where he was going, he was being secretive, jumping when you entered rooms and seemingly being very interested in how you were interacting with the other people in his life.
It's so nice how you are with Jack.
It was your fault, really. You inserted yourself into his life, jumped head-first and hoped that that was what Aaron had wanted, needed. It wasn't. You weren't.
You braced yourself.
“Usually, when the guy starts to act strange, the girl suspects cheating, but I know you wouldn’t cheat - or at least I hope I know that you wouldn’t cheat - so the only thing left is that you’re breaking up with me.”
“I’m not breaking up with you, honey.”
“You’re not breaking up with me?”
“No.”
“Oh.”
Suddenly the idea of you stewing over your fictional breakup for even a few minutes was mortifyingly embarrassing. You wished you hadn't said anything at all, kept Aaron in the dark about your insecurity.
You looked up at the trees above you, trying to catch your breath.
“Though I should have guessed that you would have noticed something was going on, you’re a better profiler than I am,” He mumbled as he fished for something in his pocket.
“Yeah, that’s why you’re the unit chief.” You rolled your eyes, giddy in your moment of relief that the best thing that had ever happened to you wasn’t changing. You didn’t even notice that he’d stopped looking for something until he went silent and you were forced to check on him.
That’s when you saw the box.
It wasn’t open yet, and you refused to overreact again before you were sure it wasn’t a promise ring, a necklace, or something else. But when Aaron opened the box to reveal the most engagement ring-looking engagement ring - a three-stone silver ring that was certainly too expensive to be a promise ring - you allowed yourself a small gasp.
“Aaron-”
“I love you,” You didn’t mind the interruption when it came like that, “Jack loves you, you’re our family. I know that I’ve been acting strange recently, and that’s because I’ve been trying to keep this a secret when I’m so-” He paused to take in a breath, a grin spreading across his lips. “-So excited to put this ring on your finger. I almost just asked you to marry me last night.”
The confirmation that he was, in fact, asking you to marry him made tears form in your eyes, your heart overflowing with love but deeper. You couldn’t believe you’d thought he was breaking up with you.
Aaron didn’t bother getting onto one knee - he’d done that before, and this time was different. He took a breath in, released it heavily, and then, with sparkling eyes:
“Will you marry me?”
“Yes. Yes!” You could barely get out the word before Aaron had closed the box and practically launched himself forward, catching your face in his hands and kissing you passionately.
Later, you would laugh with your friends about the question you'd asked, the question that had been plaguing your mind for days, and how it contrasted so wildly with the question that Aaron had asked, the question he'd been thinking about for months.