50 shades freed

Chapter 14

Everything in it is entirely imaginary and intended only for entertainment; I created it for fun. I did not write 50 Shades freed or any of its characters, and I do not own them.

Chapter 14

The attention of the entire restaurant is trained on Zayn and Liam, waiting with bated breath as one. The anticipation is unbearable. Silence stretches like a taut rubber band. The atmosphere is oppressive, apprehensive, and yet hopeful.

Zayn stares blankly at Liam as he gazes up at him, his eyes wide with longing—fear even. Holy crap, Zayn! Put him out of his misery. Please. Jeez—he could have asked him privately.

A single tear trickles down his cheek though he remains expressionless. Shit! Zayn crying? Then he smiles, a slow disbelieving I've-found-Nirvana smile.

"Yes," he whispers, a breathy, sweet acceptance—not Zayn -like at all. For one nanosecond there's a pause as the entire restaurant exhales a collective sigh of relief, and then the noise is deafening. Spontaneous applause, cheering, catcalls, whooping, and suddenly I have tears rolling down my face, smudging my makeup.

Oblivious to the commotion around them, the two are locked in their own little world. From his pocket Liam produces a small box, opens it, and presents it to Zayn. A ring. And from what I can see, an exquisite ring, but I need a closer look. Is that what he was doing with Gio? Choosing a ring? Shit! Oh, I'm so glad I didn't tell Zayn.

Zayn looks from the ring to Liam then throws his arms around his neck. They kiss, remarkably chaste for them, and the crowd goes wild. Liam stands and acknowledges the approbation with a surprisingly graceful bow then, wearing a huge self-satisfied grin, sits back down. I can't take my eyes off them. Taking the ring out of its box, Liam gently slides it onto Zayn 's finger, and they kiss once more.

Harry squeezes my hand. I didn't realize I'd been gripping his so tightly. I release him, a little embarrassed, and he shakes his hand, mouthing, "Ow."

"Sorry. Did you know about this?" I whisper.

Harry smiles, and I know that he did. He summons the waiter. "Two bottles of the Cristal please. The 2002 if you have it." I smirk at him.

"What?" he asks.

"Because the 2002 is so much better than the 2003," I tease.

He laughs. "To the discerning palate, Louis."

"You have a very discerning palate, Mr. Styles, and singular tastes." I smile.

"That I do, Mr. Tomlinson-Styles." He leans in close. "You taste best," he whispers, and he kisses a certain spot behind my ear, sending little shivers down my spine. I blush scarlet and fondly remember his earlier demonstration of the quite literal shortcomings of my slacks.

Gemma is the first up to hug Zayn and Liam, and we all take turns congratulating the happy couple. I clutch Zayn in a fierce hug.

"See? He was just worried about his proposal," I whisper.

"Oh, Lou." He giggle-sobs.

"Zayn, I am so happy for you. Congratulations."

Harry is behind me. He shakes Liam's hand, then—surprising both Liam and me—pulls him into a hug. I can only just catch what he says.

"Way to go, LLiam," he murmurs. Liam says nothing, for once stunned into silence, then cautiously returns his brother's hug.

LLiam?

"Thanks, Harry," Liam chokes out.

Harry gives Zayn a brief, if awkward, almost arm's-length hug. I know that Harry's attitude to Zayn is tolerant, at best, and ambivalent most of the time, so this is progress. Releasing him, he says so quietly only he and I can hear, "I hope you are as happy in your marriage as I am in mine."