Merry Happy

Chapter Twenty Nine

"I think–" He had said, his back to hers as she huffed and puffed to find her breath. Her face had still been red, there had still been a lump in her throat as she clenched her fists at her sides and waited for him to turn back to her so they could keep at it–keep arguing over whatever pointless shit they had spent the passed five minutes yelling at to each other over.

He had braced one hand against the wall, his back slightly arched as she had waited for the rest of his words.

"I think I'm going to marry you someday."

Quinn's eyebrows had drawn together in confusion, her stance becoming less defensive as Harry turned around and gave her a timid smile from across the room. It had been an exhausted smile, but still a smile, as if they hadn't just spent the last five minutes at each others throats.

"What?" It had come out in half of a laugh, her disbelief marring her confusion as he had crossed the room until he was in front of her again.

"I can't imagine doing this with anybody else." He had said so softly, his eyes crinkling at the sides as if this whole goddamn thing had been a joke to him. "In 40 years? I don't know if there's anybody else in the world I'd want to argue about forgetting to pay the telephone bill with."

Quinn glanced over at the mess of mail on the counter, where their fought had first began. The unpaid telephone bill sitting mockingly on top of all the others, and turning to look at him then, with his shaggy, messy hair (in which he had promised her he'd go get trimmed, but didn't) and his cheeky grin, ripped jeans and scuffed up shoes, she had suddenly found that telephone bill to be the stupidest thing in the world.

She had laughed then, as he watched her like the sun set and rose with her, standing before her and absorbing the radiance in which came from a simple goddamn laugh that lit up his whole fucking world.

His smile had been so gentle, his eyes on the corners of her mouth, never once leaving, as he whispered back to her.

"I'm going to marry you one day, Quinn Parker. And you'll just have to say yes to me." She had laughed, with a hand to her mouth. "You won't get rid of me that easy. I'll be around, forgetting to pay phone bills, forgetting which percent of milk to buy, stealing all the covers, for an awfully long time."

And right then, all those years ago, in the posh flat downtown London that she had just bought with him, she had realized that there was nothing more in the world than she wanted.

-

"–And I'll pass this on to Harry, now." Niall finished up his speech, passing the mic over to his friend that stood to the back of the boys.

The crowd was going nuts. But Quinn's heart was pounding at the back of her throat as she watched from the side-stage as the five boys she knew better than herself, stood in front of the whole world and accepted their award.

She zoned in on the fist he held close to his side, her anxiety bubbling throughout her body at the confusion towards his actions. Was he going to do it? Was he going to ask her in front of all these people?

There he stood on the stage with her engagement ring in the midst of his palm, but his stern 'No' had left her wondering whether he wanted to give it to her or not at all.

Her eyes were stinging and she didn't know if it was from the harsh stage lights, the flashing camera bulbs or the fact that she was trying desperately to hold herself together.

She watched, almost numbly, as Harry took the mic.

"Er, I'd just like to thank all the fans." He started in his husky, lazy drawl. Clearing his throat, before adding. "We're very appreciative of everything you've done for us. There's really no words for it–"