A/N: I don't own anything, so please don't sue me, okay?
Hi all! My brain won't shut up with these little one-shots, so here's another one. It's Ron and Hermione this time, based very loosely on the song "Stay Stay Stay" by Taylor Swift.
Thanks so much for reading! See you at the bottom.
Hermione woke abruptly from the nightmare she'd been having, reaching across the blue sheets instinctively for her boyfriend, Ron, who normally was lying there at- she glanced at the clock- six in the morning.
Finding nothing but cold sheets and a missing pillow, their argument from last night came flooding back into her brain.
No wonder she had had a nightmare. Ever since Voldemort had been defeated, whenever Hermione slept alone, namely without Ron (though Harry could sometimes calm her), she had nightmares like she had while they were on the run or in the first year after the war.
She shivered, drawing the dark brown comforter closer around herself. Ron had left again in her dream. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly, forbidding herself to cry.
Don't be stupid, she chastised herself. Ron is sleeping on the sofa in the living room, where you told him to go after you threw that book at him last night.
If she was honest with herself, she couldn't even remember what the argument was about... She remembered a lot of yelling, she threatened to leave, he scoffed that he couldn't care less, she chucked the book hard across the bedroom at him..
The corner of the book had caught him sharply above the ear (she remembered a fierce pride at the aim she didn't know she had), and then she had banished him to the sofa, tossing his pillow into the hall after him before he could slam the door.
She remembered the yelling and the actions that accompanied it, but couldn't remember the words. She supposed it didn't matter now- she needed to apologize. Ron was the best thing ever to happen to her, and she needed him to stay; she needed to stay.
Stretching like a cat, she figured it was best to get up and face the music sooner rather than later. She swung her legs over her side of the bed, replacing the covers once she was standing. She padded into the bathroom, where she used the toilet and then brushed her teeth and hair quickly.
She examined her reflection in the large mirror above the sink, leaning closer until she could see every freckle on her nose and cheeks and her brown eyes seemed to cross. She pulled her unruly brown hair into a messy bun and took a deep breath, pulling one of Ron's jumpers- blue, the one Ginny had given him for Christmas last year- over her head and the t-shirt she had worn to sleep in. It hung to the middle of her thighs, nearly covering the boxers (also Ron's; green and blue stripes) she wore on her bottom half. She placed a pair of wool socks on her feet, stretching them to the bottom of her calves.
She exited the bedroom quietly, intending to assess the situation in the living room of the flat the two of them shared with Harry before she decided what exactly she was going to do. She walked silently down the hall until she reached the arches on either side of her that would take her either to the kitchen or the living room.
Squaring her shoulders, she took the left turn, stopping suddenly in her tracks when she almost ran smack into Ron, who was standing awkwardly in the doorway as though he were going to find her in the bedroom.
His clear blue eyes met hers, and she knew that whatever they had disagreed about wasn't important anymore- he had stayed, he was there, he hadn't left her. They walked to the sofa together, sitting down cross legged on either end, facing each other.
"So.." They both began speaking at the same time.
"Go ahead," Ron told her.
She cracked a half smile at him. "So, Ron, I know we both said some terrible things last night, but I want you to know that I'm sorry," she rushed out.
"Hang on," Ron interjected suddenly, jumping up and walking down the hall.
Hermione could not for the life of her think what he was doing- he must have needed the bathroom.
He returned not ten seconds later, and Hermione burst out laughing. He had located his old Keeper's helmet and strapped it on his head, flashing her with a dazzling, wide smile and sparkling blue eyes. He looked ridiculous, as he was still wearing his red plaid pajama pants and no shirt.
"Okay, let's talk," he laughed, embracing her when she reached him. He was laughing with her now.
She looked up at him, her arms still around his neck.
"I'm sorry," she apologized. "I feel awful for throwing a book at you."
He chuckled. "It's alright, love," he consoled her, rubbing her back lightly. "I'm sure I deserved it. Honestly, Hermione, I'm sorry for saying that you shouldn't work. I didn't mean for it to offend you."
A sudden memory came back to Hermione- Ron had said that when they had kids, Hermione should take a leave from her job at the Ministry to raise them.
"Please, don't apologize, Ron," she stated, holding up a hand to stop him. "I took it too personally. Who knows what I'll be doing when we have children? We can talk about that then- calmly and with no projectiles," she giggled.
He kissed her temple, cradling the back of her head and holding it to his chest.
"I just don't want you to leave," Hermione whispered, her voice muffled by his skin.
He heard her anyway. "I'm not going anywhere, Hermione. Never," he vowed, tilting her chin up so their eyes met again.
She wrinkled her nose at him, smiling. "Me, either. I guess we're both staying, then. I love you, Ron," she uttered, her stomach flipping over when his eyes lit up at the words.
"I love you, too, Hermione," he answered, kissing her briefly on the lips and then rubbing their noses together.
All of a sudden, Hermione was struck by the feeling that she'd been having for a while, but stronger and more and more often lately: she wanted to marry Ron. She wanted him forever- she wanted him always to stay. So she told him.
"Marry me," she said lowly.
His eyes snapped wide open. "What?" he demanded.
"Marry me, Ron," she repeated. "Please?"
"But," he stammered, still staring at her incredulously. "But, I'm supposed to ask you that!"
She laughed. "When have we ever done things the way they're supposed to be done?" Here she paused, studying his expression closely. He still looked incredibly confused. "So… What do you say?"
"Yes," he whispered, so quietly that she barely heard him, even pressed up against him.
But his quiet answer was enough- she pressed her lips to his again.
"We're getting married!" Ron marveled aloud, laughing and twirling her in a circle.
She hugged him tightly, breathing in his scent and thrilling at the fact that he was going to be hers forever.
A/N 2: Thanks for reading!
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