Harry wants to pop the question but is nervous.
Three years. Harry and Y/N had been together three years. Harry had been with the love of his life for three years.
It was crazy to him, but made so much sense at the same time. The endless dates in hotel rooms because they couldn’t go in public without being bombarded with paparazzi, but still he loved them because he was with her, the countless times they’d just lied in bed in silence because one or the other was touring so much and they needed to simply bask in each other for a few minutes. It was all clicking in place.
There was only one thing left to do: get engaged.
If she said yes now, she would have time to finish up her wolrd tour, then they’d have a few months to plan. That was if she said yes. For some reason, Harry was deadly afraid she wouldn’t. He knew he was just over thinking, but the nagging was always in the back of his mind, as if that beautiful woman would somehow realize she was way too good for him before he could even pop the question.
Y/N had told him endlessly, though, through the three years of them being together that she was unchangeably in love with him. Whether it be crying over FaceTime because they were in different countries, or when they were making love in a hotel room somewhere in the world because they finally managed to find one day to be together through their busy schedules.
He wanted to do it now. It was the time, it felt right. Even with Y/N being stressed and bothered about starting her next album for her next tour, and Harry’s team planning a new movie role and modeling job for him, something felt right in his stomach. Plus, with his third world tour just ending, he had been on the road with her for a week, and was going to be with her the rest of her tour. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity for them.
“Har?” Y/N’s voice makes his head snap up. He was sat on the couch backstage at the arena, ready to do his normal reading and some texting with his manager while he awaited her back from the stage. She’s stood there in the doorway in deep orange, high rise pants with a simple black camisole tucked into them, and Harry can’t help but think she looks extra pretty in that moment.
“Yeah, love?” He hums, finally snapping out of his daze, his eyes meeting hers.
She smile softly, “I’m going on stage, but after the show, you’re all mine, bubs.”
Oh, hell yes, he is. He’s all her’s always, forever. At least, he wants to be. He hopes she wants him in that way, too.
It’s only until after the show, when she’s curled up in his side in the car that he feels his palms begin to clam up. “Baby,” She had mumbled sleepily, her hand sliding in his, “Are y’hot? Y’hands are all clammy.”
He could only chuckle half heartedly, slightly embarrassed, “No, no, ‘m fine, sorry, love.” And he’s tried to take his hand away to wipe at his jeans and calm himself down, and because she seemed a bit grossed out, but Y/N just held tighter, bringing his hand up to kiss his knuckles softly.
She took a nap on the twenty minute car ride back, but when she woke up and they were in the elevator up to their room, she was a little ball of energy, giggling at everything and talking about the concert, as if the adrenaline was just then pumping back through her.
“Hey, hey, hey,” Harry laughs, watching in amusement as she kicked off her shoes and tried to pull him towards the bedroom, muddle mumbles from her lips about cuddling and movies. “How about we get in our pjs and then have some dinner?” His heart is pounding just as he asks that, but the smile that crawls on her face eases it.
“Ispahan,” He finishes her sentence for her, knowing it’s been her favorite dessert ever since she first came to Paris on her first world tour.
Y/N giggles, “Mm, my man memorizing my favorite cake, how romantic.”
“Three years and I’ve memorized your favorite everything,” Harry rolls his eyes jokingly, tapping her bum lightly as she walks towards the bedroom, “I’ll order right now, m’love.”
Harry changed into his baggy pajama shorts and a t-shirt, quickly dialing room service and ordering some entrees, a slice of the cake, and a bottle of the nicest red wine they had. By the time he’d finished setting up the table, in front of the doors leading to the balcony because it was a bit too chilly to be outside in their pjs right now, she walked out, hair in a French braid and one of his sweatshirts on. Harry can’t hold back a little chuckle as she walks in pantsless, knee socks on as well.
“Comfy?” He teases her, walking over to where she was stood between the double doors of their bedroom, arms wrapping around her as he presses a sloppy kiss to her forehead.
“I actually am, thank you very much,” She replies, a smug smile on her face, “You look silly wearing pants. No one is comfy in pants, and whoever says they are is lying.”
Harry rolls his eyes, “Oh, I’m dating a bloody genius.”
Just then, a knock comes from the door, and Y/N sends a joking glare at him, “You’re lucky our foods here, mister.”
“Oh yeah?” Harry laughs, shaking his head as he walks to the door. The server brought their food in, setting it on the table that was prepared, then leaving it them.
Y/N smiles as she sees the table all ready, then sitting down slowly, Harry sitting across from her. They got to eating, and both of them could eat quite a lot, but Harry was rather nervous and feared he’d heave it all up if he ate too much. So, he ate about half his plate, then the two splitting the cake.
“This is the life,” Y/N hums, eyes closing and an exasperated moan coming from her as she chewed the cake.
“Sat in Paris eating a raspberry macaron cake?”
“No!” She giggles, “Well, that’s part of it. But, you know, being in Paris due to my job that also happens to be my dream, eating a cake with my boyfriend who also happens to be the love of my life.”
Harry’s heart thumps harder at her words, “You love me… like that?” He quickly corrects himself, “You know, well, y’think I’m the one? Y’forever?”
Y/N quirks one eyebrow, chuckling quietly as she nods, suddenly a bit nervous about her words, “One hundred percent, Har. Is there something wrong with-“
“No! No, God, no, lovie,” Harry hurriedly tells her before she gets the wrong idea. “I just want to know that you love me, like, really love me, like… you’d want to spend the rest of you’re life with me…”
“Harry,” Y/N mumbles slowly.
“Can y’come with me, Y/N?” He asks nervously, standing up. He feels the box in his pajama pocket shift. Just that has his breathing increasing in the slightest.
Y/N knows what’s happening, or she has a great gist. And she can feel tears welling in her eyes as she slowly rises from her seat, taking his hand as he leads her through the glass double doors and outside onto the balcony of their hotel room. They were on one of the highest floors, giving them more privacy and a beautiful view of the Eiffel Tower in the distance, lighting up the city.
Harry looks to her as they stand in the middle of the balcony, Y/N shivering some. He frowns, his nerves taking him over, “W-We can go inside, if you-“
“No,” She quickly says, hands gripping his biceps lightly to keep him there close to her. “This is perfect, Har, everything is perfect.”
He feels his chest swell, and he lets out a shaky laugh, taking out his phone and going to his Spotify, clicking on the song he’d been listening to for the past day to prepare himself, the song he’d specially picked, the song that meant the most to them.
“Crystal by Fleetwood Mac, hm?” Y/N teases him, arms resting over his shoulders.
Harry blushes, setting his phone on the table that was sat in the corner of the balcony, “I should’ve gotten a speaker, but I’m a bit dim when I’m nervous.”
Y/N cups his face, thumb running over his cheek as she looks at him, a smile on her face. As the tears flood her eyes once more, recognition of what’s happening really hitting her, she rests her head on his chest, a little sob mixed with a laugh leaving her lips. “God, I love you,” She breathes.
Harry chuckles, “Why are y’crying, m’love?”
Y/N shakes her head as she raises it again, “Just can’t believe y’mine.”
“Yeah, well, I think we should make it even more so…” He hums, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the black velvet box.
Y/N feels hot tears slipping down her cheeks, wiping at them as she teases him, “I’m dating the corniest man in the world, aren’t I?”
Harry shrugs, getting down on one knee then and opening the box before nervously looking up at her, “Actually, I was hoping you’d be willing to marry him.”
Another sob mixed with a laugh leaves her lips, looking down at the breathtaking man kneeled in front of her in his pajama shorts and t-shirt, his eyes glimmering with hope as he looks up at her. “God, I love you,” She breathes, giggling through her tears as she nods her head, “Yes, yes, yes, how ever many yes’ you want, Har.”
He wipes a tear that slipped down his cheek before slipping the simple diamond encrusted band around her ring finger, standing up on shaky legs. “Love you so much,” He mumbles, scooping her up in his arms once the ring was on, a perfect fit.
She buries her head in his neck, “I love you, too, more than words could ever explain, Har.
He quickly takes her inside, chuckling some as he closes the doors to the balcony, “I could’ve picked a better time of day.”
“I think it was perfect,” She hums, cupping his face. He grasps her left hand in his, bringing it up to admire how the ring looks on her, what it signifies.
“I kept it kind of simple just so we could keep it a secret a bit,” He mumbles, then looking up at her, “If that’s alright. We don’t have to keep it a secret, and I-I can get you a bigger ring, I just thought you’d want-“
“Hey,” Y/N giggles, pulling her body closer to his, “Y’know I would’ve said yes even if y’bought me a ¢25 Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles ring from an arcade, silly. And I think it’s best t’keep it a secret, too, just for a while so no one freaks out or anything. Behind closed doors, though…” She trails off, smirking up at him, leaning up so their lips brush.
Harry bites his lip softly before pressing his lips to hers and wrapping her legs around his waist in one movement.
