Sugar, Baby?

why don't you want to marry me?

A/N: This pic... they look so hAppy I'm in PAIN UGH

Unedited, cos I CBA.

(In a bit of a funk, so please be nice🌝)

see yous at the end!

✨

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21 months, 11 days, 13 hours, and 24 minutes later

Vegas just so happens to be our next stop on tour.

It's the perfect city for this sort of thing, eh?

"Pez?" Jes calls from the bedroom.

"In 'ere!" I call.

I'm in the bathroom braiding my hair so that we can go rock climbing at this place Leigh suggested and then grab lunch. Once that's finished, I know Jesy wants to go mini-golfing, but I'm pulling for a trip to the casino.

I love a bit of a gamble. It just gives me such a rush.

Jes thinks I'd be better served just lighting my money on fire, 'cos that's how useless gambling is to her.

It's a total waste of money, babe.

I argued that it didn't matter 'cos money's not a problem, to which Jes told me that it could become a problem if I wasn't careful.

We half-bickered about it for a couple minutes before she kissed my jaw and I forgot what I was saying.

That happens a lot, but I don't really mind.

"You look cute," she says, smiling at me softly in the mirror.

"Thank you," I say, shooting her a goofy grin in return.

She grins back, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes.

"Jes?"

"Hmm?"

"Are y'alright?" I ask, turning to look at her directly instead of in the mirror.

"How come you haven't asked me to marry you?" She blurts, biting her lip once she's finished.

I'm so shocked that I drop the braid I was working on, and the hair falls into my face.

"What?"

Jesy huffs, then grabs my hand and a hair tie and leads me to the bed.

She tugs my hand to get me to sit, then crawls up behind me and begins twisting the loose half of my hair into a braid again.

"So why don't you want to marry me?"

"Jes, where did this come from?" I ask, too confused to even respond.

"I just—I don't know. I've just been thinking about it lately. Do you not want to marry me?" She asks, sounding equal parts frustrated and nervous.

"Love, you told me you never wanted to get married, and that the concept of marriage was, and I quote, "a crock of religious bullshit,'" I say, wondering who the gorgeous woman behind me is and what she's done with my girlfriend.

"It is a crock of religious bullshit," she says, "but that doesn't mean I don't wanna marry you."

"Jes—" I say, trying to turn my head, but she holds it still.

"Lemme finish your braid, I'm almost done."

I stay still, only turning around once Jes throws the tied-off braid over my shoulder. I take her hands in mine as soon as I'm sitting down again, tugging on them until she looks me in the eye.