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Harry and his girlfriend of the past two and a half years, Y/n, were in the car and on the way to dinner at their favorite Italian restaurant. Their car ride had been mostly silent, aside from the occasional soft remark from Harry about how gorgeous Y/n looked in her evening attire, and the indie rock tunes playing from the radio on a low volume.
Y/n sneaks a peek at Harry for the fourth time since their drive started. He's got that thoughtful look on his face that she adores—his brows furrowed,an absentminded pout on his lips.
"Everything alright, H?" Y/n ventures to ask.
"Everything's perfect, darling," Harry flashes Y/n a smile before returning his eyes to the road. "How could it not be when I'm in the company of an angel?"
"Oh, stop," Y/n giggled, swatting at her boyfriend's arm. Despite their relationship spanning nearly three years, she still couldn't help but blush every time she was at the mercy of one of Harry's many flirty comments.
"I just thought I'd ask, because you looked like you had something on your mind," Y/n adds. "You know you can talk to me about anything, don't you?"
"Of course I know that, baby. But I assure you everything's fine, and I have nothing pressing to talk about. I'm happier than I've ever been." Harry reaches over to squeeze Y/N's thigh as if to back up his answer. And Y/n smiles, resting her hand atop his. "Me too," she replied.
They resume their comfortable silence after that, occasionally humming or singing along to a song that plays. Harry keeps his eyes on the road, a secretive grin painting his features when Y/n isn't looking.
So, what he'd told Y/n had been mostly true. He was happier than he'd ever been, and Y/n was the culprit. But he didn't necessarily have nothing pressing to talk about. Because tonight was the night. Tonight was the night he'd be proposing to Y/n.
His chest flutters for the 100th time at the thought of proposing, and the ring in his pocket is a constant reminder that he was about to make the best decision of his life.
