Gold patted his hand to his chest briefly to check that the small velvet lined box was still in his pocket. Belle grabbed onto his arm, resting her head on his shoulder as they walked. She exchanged her heels for flats for the trip, but with his cane they weren't walking too fast.
When Gold mentioned visiting his son at college in New York, Belle said she'd never been there. So of course he planned a weekend of the basics: see a show, visit the Empire State Building, go to the Museum of Modern Art, wander around Times Square. And then he booked them at the best hotel he could find. It wasn't near anything they planned to go to, but the costly room was worth the long taxi drive.
Gold hadn't accounted for the New York traffic, though. After spending ten minutes at one light he and Belle paid their taxi driver, scooting out into the crisp December air to walk the rest of the way. It would probably take the same amount of time to walk, but at least they didn't have to hear the ads the little television screen in the cab played on loop.
He chose the ring almost three months ago when a customer came into his shop claiming it to be an old family heirloom. The ring was indeed old, but in perfect condition. So he paid the customer, setting the ring aside for Belle. They'd been dating for a year and he needed the perfect moment to propose. A perfect moment never seemed to come, but he brought the ring along with him to this trip in case he decided to finally summon up the courage to ask her.
He'd never been good at this sort of thing. It was her who asked him out the first time, after months of relentless flirting. Even then, he thought the librarian was playing some sort of practical joke on him. But she'd laugh at his quips and visit him in his shop for lunch and he finally realized that by some miracle, her feelings were true.
They walked along the sidewalk in silence, though the taps of his cane and the rush of cars on the road provided some background noise.
He already thought about proposing twice today. Once while they were sitting on a secluded bench in Central Park and another time while they watched ice skaters in Rockefeller Center. Both times, though, his cowardice won out and he left the box in his pocket.
"I can see why Neal wanted to come here for college." Belle said, her eyes on the skyscrapers around them. "It's beautiful."
"I'm glad you like it."
She squeezed his arm. "I'm glad you brought me."
They walked the rest of the way in silence, tired from their day of being tourists. Gold wondered if this would be a good moment. His heart raced at the thought of pulling the box out of his pocket and kneeling down in front of her. As they rounded a corner, Gold stopped in his tracks. "Hold on. Ninth Avenue."
Belle glanced behind them. "Aren't we supposed to be on Seventh?"
"I think." They turned to face the right. During the day this road had been packed with cars, but now there were only a few. He debated asking her now. "Here, let's go this way."
As they approached the next road sign, Belle squinted. "This is Tenth."
"Okay let's turn around." Gold squinted at a lit walkway in the dance. He turned to Belle. "Would you be interested in walking on The High Line?" If they're going to be lost in New York City they might as well make something of it.
"Are you sure?" She rested her hand over his right hand on his cane. "I don't want you to hurt your ankle."
He brushed his thumb over hers. "I already walk with a cane." He'd be lying if he said walking around New York City didn't affect him, but it was nothing a few pain killers couldn't fix.
"Okay, but we can always get a cab if-"
He interrupted her by pressing his lips to hers. "I'm fine," he whispered against her mouth. His brain was too busy thinking about proposing to register any pain in his leg anyway.
The old train tracks-turned-tourist-spot was mostly empty at this time of night, so they slowly inched along. They found a bench to sit on, facing the city lights.
"It's beautiful," she whispered.
"Yeah," he agreed, looking at her instead of the view. Her eyes lit up as much as the Christmas lights strung above them did. She looked so at peace, her eyes dancing around the view in wonder. He wanted to stay sitting on that bench in that moment forever.
But eventually the High Line would close. "We should go," Belle said finally, standing.
He stood, too, but neither of them moved.
His breath quickened- this was the type of moment he was waiting for. Leaning his cane against the bench, he got down on one knee, careful of his bad ankle. He braved a glance up at Belle. Her eyes were wide and her mouth hung open. Other than that, though, her face was blank. His voice caught in his throat. What was he thinking? He couldn't do this. She might enjoy spending time with him and going on trips with him, but she couldn't possibly want to be with him for the rest of her life.
He was already on the ground, though. So he cast his eyes down, muttering "I, uh...dropped something." He slid his gloved hands around the pavement for show.
"Oh."Belle shifted, sighing. Probably with relief. "What-" she coughed, "what did you drop?" She bent down to help him look.
Lifting his chin, he looked at her. Her eyes were glassy and she was biting her lip. Someone who knew her less might not have picked up on it, but she looked about to cry. Because of him. Because she...oh.
"I seem to have dropped my common sense, apparently," he said eventually. "Because I almost let this moment pass without doing what I want to do." He reached for her hand, drawing strength from her. "Belle…" she nodded, scooting closer to him. "Will you marry me?"
Before he could finish the last word she flung herself forward, knocking him the rest of the way to the ground. His back pressed against the cold pavement, but he didn't mind.
"Yes!" She pressed her lips to his. His arms came up to hold her on top of him. When she broke the kiss she giggled. "You didn't really drop something, did you?"
"No. I was just scared to ask."
She buried her face in his neck. "You shouldn't have been."
Her hand rested on his chest, bumping against the box in his pocket. "Would you like to see the ring?"
"Oh, I forgot about that." She slid off of him, helping him to his feet. Pulling it from his pocket, he opened the small velvet box and took the ring out. As he slid it onto her finger, Belle murmured, "it's beautiful."
He held onto her left hand with both of his. "Someone brought it into the shop months ago. I've been carrying it around ever since, waiting for the perfect time to propose."
"Well this was perfect." Belle said as they made their way to leave. "Even the part where you pretended to drop something."