Four years, five months, and twenty-three days.
Four years, five months, and twenty-three days. He repeated the count in his head, like a mantra, trying to convince himself—not of its veracity, but of its worth. Surely it wasn't too late. Hopefully it wasn't too early. He knew plenty of people got engaged in much less time, but then again, they weren't plenty of people. They were two very particular people. She was a very particular person.
And he very much wanted her to say yes when he asked.
It's why he'd hesitated so long. First he'd wasted time telling himself it was too early (that's what he'd been doing for the last five months and twenty-three days; he'd talked himself out of proposing on their anniversary). Then he'd wasted time trying to find a ring (pointless, he'd only ever had one in mind). Then he'd dallied over the speech (he'd wanted to tell her everything, wanted to make her understand what she meant to him, what he would do for her, how he would always love her and care for her and never be unfaithful, but he knew she didn't want or need to hear those things—Oh, be quiet, O, she'd tell him, rolling her eyes). He had spent so much time trying to make it perfect that eventually, he simply gave up.
In the end, he just asked. They were in the middle of dinner, eating quietly, and he took one look at her and decided suddenly that enough was enough. Either she'd say yes or she wouldn't; more time would not change her answer. A bigger ring would not matter. A practiced speech would not sway her.
She stopped eating when he took the ring out of his pocket and passed it to her over the table. Her eyes went round, and her mouth even fell open a little bit, as she watched him leave his chair and kneel by her side. She tried to say something—he watched her mouth open and close, his own pressed tightly shut—but nothing ever came out. He tried for a smile, tried to be confident. Her hand was shaking a little bit when he took it in his.
"Hey," he whispered, tilting his head back to look up at her.
She stared at him, eyes wide for a moment, before bursting out with a quick laugh at the simple absurdity of it. "Hi," she whispered back, a smile breaking open the edges of her face.
Her hand had its feeling back now, and it was clutching his hard. He squeezed it back, brought it to his lips. He pressed a firm kiss to her knuckles, and then closed his eyes, bowing his head to her hand for a moment. He listened to her whisper his name, and tried to judge what sort of pleading he heard there. Did she or did she not want him to ask?
Only one way to find out.
He opened his eyes, lifted his head, sought her gaze. He couldn't stop himself from smiling. "So," he whispered, bringing his other hand up to cradle hers in both of his. He kissed her fingers once more. "What's it gonna be?"
She was grinning and laughing and then she was falling to the floor, too, and their knees were bumping against each other as they hugged. He wrapped his arms tight around her back—too tight, he knew, but he couldn't let go—and whispered in her ear. That he was happy. That he loved her. That he always would. She repeated the words back to him, hugging him as tightly as she could, and he couldn't tell anymore, if it was his own tears he felt dripping down between them or hers.
"Maybe I should actually try on the ring," she said finally, once they'd pulled apart and cleared their faces a bit. He smiled, not even having even noticed they'd skipped that part. She reached up onto the table for the ring, and pulled it down to inspect it. He felt the nervousness coming back as he watched her shrewd eyes examine it. If there was a fault to be found there, she would be the one to find it.
"If you don't like it," he began quickly, "I can find you something else. I know it's kind of old-fashioned; it was my mother's. So it might not exactly be your style. We can get something else, whatever you want. But I thought maybe—"
"I don't need something else," she interrupted softly. "It's perfect, Oscar."
He broke off, swallowing his explanation as he watched her trace her fingers over the curve of the ring. Her fingertips swirled in circles around the diamonds. She put it on and when he saw her smile at how well it fit, he felt like he might pass out from relief. He would close his eyes, would take a breath, would tell himself to calm down, but all that would take away from the time he could be spending watching her wear that ring. And he didn't want to take away from a single second of that time. He never wanted to see her without it on.
"You said it was your mother's?"
He nodded. "Yeah. Well—my grandmother's, too, actually. Hers first. But most recently it was my mother's." He paused, and swallowed hard against the impossible turned possible that was surrounding them. He still couldn't believe she'd said yes—to him, to this. To a sworn future together, no matter what.
"And now… It's mine?"
The uncertainty in her voice made him smile; it even made him laugh a little.
"Of course it's yours," he assured her at once. "If you want it, it's yours. Everything's yours."
"Everything?" She finally looked up from the ring, met his eyes with a cheeky smile and an arched eyebrow. "Everything?"
"Everything I have," he answered honestly. "It's all yours. Ours." He meant the promise, but saying it aloud suddenly reminded him of how little he had to give her, apart from that ring. And even that hadn't exactly been his to give. "That isn't to say there's much," he warned her a moment later. "I mean, you served like me, you know what kind of a salary we made. And as far as a house or any kind of significant savings are concerned, well, I don't have one, and most of my savings have gone into the mission, so…"
"Oh, now you tell me," she teased. "There's no house? No millions of dollars in various investment accounts? Well, I'm done. I'm out. Take the ring back."
She held out her left hand into the air towards him, playing, but he took it in his and bent to press a kiss to the ring. His touch was very tender, and she felt the joking smile fall off her face as she watched him.
"I love you," he whispered, pressing another kiss to her knuckles. "I love you, and that's what I can give you."
"Well, good." She met his eyes as he straightened up. "Because that's all I'm asking for." She leaned forward, then lowered her voice to a stage whisper. "And between you and me," she added, "it's just about all I've got to give, too. So don't get your hopes up that there's anything special hidden up my sleeves for you."
"Oh, you must have something special for me." He grinned, and pulled her close for a kiss. She smiled, and wrapped her right arm around the back of his neck while her left cupped the side of his face. He could feel the cool metal of the engagement ring against the skin of his cheek as she held him, and he kissed her more deeply, pulling her into his lap as he sat back on the floor.
"O."
She pushed him back a moment, her hands bracing against his chest so she could speak, and look him in the eye.
"Yeah?"
"You should know right now that I won't be wearing a white dress. And you'll have to kill me before a veil goes on my head." Her green eyes watched his sternly for a moment. "Are we still good?"
He grinned. "Still good. Just so long as I don't have to wear a tux, deal?"
She rolled her eyes, hooking her arms lazily behind his neck. "Please. As if I'd even assume you'd dress up for me. I already knew that was off the table going into this." She frowned at him. "I doubt I could get you into a tux even if I begged."
"Hey, maybe it's not off the table." He smiled, cupping her hips and brushing his hands back until they linked together over her lower back. "What kind of begging did you have in mind?"
She laughed softly, throwing her head back as she scooted closer. She ran her hands through his hair; it was so long now, since he'd left the Corps three years ago, and she still hadn't gotten used to it. She was more than a little addicted to touching it, and feeling the difference in length. The difference in time.
"Hm, I don't know," she mused. "What kind of begging do you have in mind?"
He smiled, and tightened his arms around her back in a fierce hug, binding them together. "We'll talk about it in a minute," he murmured, leaning forward to kiss her once more.