A/N: Alright people, last chapter! Looks like there'll be a happy ending after all. Good. What do you think of it? Please do let me know! This is a fluffy chapter to finish off, as a reward for all you lovely folks who've stuck with this until the end.
If you still think I own it by now, then no amount of disclaimers will convince you otherwise.
Chapter Four
Our seat stops at the top of the Ferris wheel, rocking to and fro in the chill breeze. John, who is sensible enough to be wearing gloves, takes my pale fingers between his palms and rubs them, trying to generate some heat. I smile gratefully, and it feels perfectly right. We are sitting close together so our legs touch, nestled in to conserve our body heat.
The wheel lurches forward and he releases my hand, allowing me to hold onto the freezing metal safety rail. Once we have disembarked, we head for the candyfloss stall that John pointed out earlier on. We buy one enormous stick and share it, becoming smothered in the wisps of pink sugar in the process. John kisses it from my cheeks, finishing with an affectionate peck on the bridge of my nose. I smile.
Wrapping an arm around his shoulders, I hum contentedly. "Love you," I whisper in his ear, drawing a grin to his lips. "Ready to go home?" he asks casually, but I know what is really on his mind. I nod, mind buzzing in anticipation. "We'll pick up ice-cream on the way," I agree happily.
Back on our old familiar sofa, chocolate ice cream nestled between our knees, we curl together to ward off the chill. John has pulled his quilt around our shoulders. "I wonder if this is how sheep feel when they get stuck beneath a snow drift," I muse aloud, and he rests his head on my shoulder with an affectionate chuckle. Only a week ago, it would have been an alarming gesture, but now it feels perfect. Now it feels safe.
"You look so happy these days," he notes. "I can't believe it." I know he means that he can't believe how much difference our conversation has made to me. I am a different man, really. "John," I reply patiently, "it was not unreasonable of me to assume that you would want…"
"I know, I know," he interrupts. "I just never knew… I should've realised…" he stammers. I hate the self-recriminating tone he has, so I silence it with a rare kiss to his lips. "There was no way you could have," I assure him, feeling his body relax against me. "Are you sure you don't mind, though?" I ask, nervous even though he answers this countless times in a day. He shakes his head in mock-despair.
"Sherlock. I can't be without you," he says firmly. "I will take anything you give me. This," he gestures at our interlocked forms, "is more than I have any right to expect. It's perfect."
"Anything?" I ask, feeling my heartbeat skip. He nestles closer in response, chocolate ice-cream melting over his lips as he takes a generous spoonful from the tub that rests between us. "M-hmm," he responds positively. Swallowing, he continues, "Of course. Whatever you're comfortable with."
I think faster than I ever have in my life. I think about the past six months, and how they've been the happiest of my life. I think about how it feels when we're together, like this, and try to imagine what it would feel like to know that we would never do this again. I just can't, it hurts even to try. I know, in that moment, exactly what I have to do. "John?" I venture, unaccountably nervous. He looks up at me with those perceptive blue eyes and I feel myself melt a little inside. "Will you..."
The words dry up in my throat. I lick my lips, swallow and try again. "Marry me?" It comes out as barely more than a whisper, hoarse but echoing in the sudden silence. His mouth is suddenly on mine and I can taste chocolate. "I love you," he says into the kiss.