The Promise | nemi | [2014] | (request)

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Prompt: Nick Jonas makes a promise to Demi Lovato (requested by Silent_Warrior)

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~Demi's POV~

"Do you have a name picked out?" The nurse wonders, gently placing my baby-girl in my arms.

I push the edge of the warm, pink blanket away from her sleeping face.

"Alanah Marie Jonas," I smile, stroking her soft cheek with the tip of my finger.

"Beautiful name," the nurse comments, scribbling something down on a clipboard.

"Thank you."

"I'll leave you three alone for now." She grins, exiting the room and quietly shutting the door behind her.

I crane my neck towards Nick who stands near the door with his hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans and his gaze on the floor. Seeing his weary expression causes me to nervously gnaw on my bottom lip. I know he has been worried about becoming a father ever since I told him I was pregnant. The pregnancy wasn't planned. Hell, sleeping together wasn't even planned. What started out as a heated, spur of the moment, one night fling turned into a wonderful, beautiful mess that I wouldn't change for anything, all because of the innocent little girl sleeping in my arms. I just hope that he doesn't abandon us like my father did to me. I swear on my daughter's life I will hunt him down and personally kill him myself if he even considers doing so.

"Do you want to hold her?" I ask him.

"I'm afraid I'll drop her," he sheepishly admits.

A hint of an amused smile creeps onto my face.

"You won't," I reassure.

He apprehensively approaches my bedside.

"Watch her head," I softly command, transferring her from my arms to his.

"She's so tiny," he gasps in awe, his eyes now fixated on our daughter. "Hi, Alanah," he coos. "Daddy's here, and I promise that I will never leave you, and that I will never ever let anything or anyone hurt you."

I cover my mouth with the palm of my hand to diminish the relieved and happy sob that threatens to slip past my lips. He looks at her with eyes glistening of pure love and adoration. His words hold nothing but conviction and truthfulness. My outlook on life is that everything happens for a reason. For nine months I was trying to figure out why God granted me a child with a man who I didn't love in any more than a brotherly way. Now-watching him interact with our daughter like a pro, all signs of nervousness and hesitation gone-I decide to acknowledge and embrace the part of me that has always had strong feelings for Nick. I furrow my eyebrows in confusion when he places Alanah in the hospital bassinet.

"You gave her my last name," he murmurs, wearing that same hesitant, nervous expression.

"You are her father after all."

I sink my teeth into my bottom lip again, silently pleading and praying that he's not having second thoughts. Abruptly, he turns and leaves the room. I stare blankly at the closed door, wondering what the hell just happened. I feel as if someone just kicked my stomach, forcing all of the air out of my lungs. Three consecutive dry sobs wrack my body and cause my shoulders to heave before the dam bursts. I slowly lean myself back until the back of my head molds into the pillow. My cries are loud and hysterical. It's a wonder I don't alert people walking through the corridors. My chest aches terribly, both from my heart shattering and the lack of oxygen reaching my lungs due to my amount of crying. I force myself to suck in ragged, strangled gulps of air. I'm too busy wallowing in my self-pity and despair that I don't notice someone entering the room until they rush to my side.

"Demi, why are you crying?" His melodic voice calmly inquires, brushing my hair away from my moist, sticky cheeks.

"I-I thought you-you were leaving u-us," I manage to choke out.

"Of course not, Dems," he whispers as my sobs begin to cease. "I promise that I'll never leave you two."

"Then, where'd you go?" I sniffle, wiping my tear-stained cheeks and feeling quite stupid for making assumptions.

"I-I, uh,-" he stutters, staring intently at the floor.

I'm about to ask him what's wrong when he rummages inside the pockets of his leather jacket. Unveiling a small, velvet box, he drops down onto one knee and opens the box to reveal a stunning ring. My breathing hitches as I marvel over the sparkly ring. The band of the ring is silver, forming an infinity sign. The top half of the infinity sign, however, is made up of black colored diamonds. A line of clear diamonds arch over each side of the infinity sign and slope downwards and slightly diagonally to connect with the base of the ring.

"It's not an engagement ring, so don't worry," he chuckles under his breath.

"Then,-"

"It's a promise ring," he explains, answering my unspoken question. "This ring symbolizes my promise to infinitely stand by your side through everything and anything life has to throw at us. This ring symbolizes the love that I have had for you since the first day I laid eyes on you on the set of Camp Rock. That love has only grown in the years that I have known you, Demi. With this ring, I promise to give you the love and happiness that you so deserve. One day, I will marry you, become your husband, and make you a 'Jonas', but, until then, will you do me the honor of accepting my promise?"

I nod, unable to form words as tears of utter joy stream down my cheeks. He slides the ring onto my finger, cups my cheeks with his palms, and passionately crashes my lips to his. He breaks away from the kiss first, pressing his forehead against mine.

"I love you, Demetria Devonne Lovato," he quietly states, his hot breath fanning against my face and causing a shiver to shoot down my spine.

"I love you more, Nicholas Jerry Jonas," I giggle as he returns his lips to mine.

I love you. Three little words and three little syllables that mean so much, yet we toss them carelessly around. This time, however, I speak those three little words, those three little syllables, with nothing but the truth.

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