 Bathes in Maple Syrup | Dancing Lobster | Moy Pomidor | Seneca's Beard | That Is So Fetch!
"Well," he said, the smile tugging at his lips even as his heart pounded in his chest. "You certainly did have your reasons. I can't blame you; I'd ogle me, too." His voice lightened, a faint teasing undertone to it. The playful exchange was comfortable, familiar
But this wasn't any other moment. The weight of the small box in his inner pocket pressed harder against him now, and the words Hartley had just spoken seemed to hang in the air, sharpening his nerves once more. You're not going to break up with me, are you?
Dafydd froze, his gaze snapping upward, his smile faltering for the briefest of seconds. Hartley's voice had that edge of humor, but it was laced with something else. Daf could see it in his eyes: the faint flicker of worry, the undercurrent of vulnerability.
He swallowed, feeling the dry knot in his throat. This exact moment had been played in his mind a thousand times already. Merlin, why was he so nervous? What he wanted to say really wasn't anything complicated. "Hart," he began, his voice dropping lower as he found the courage to speak. "There's something I've been wanting to say to you for a long time. It feels right tonight, to say it, here... with you."
His hand slipped from Hartley's to his jacket pocket, pulling out the small, velvet box that had been tucked away so carefully. The cool air surrounding them suddenly felt warmer as he held it out, open. It was then he knelt down on one knee.
"Will you marry me?"
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