Warning: spoilers for The Selection and the Spy ahead! If you haven't finished the whole fic, this is a spoiler. Otherwise, enjoy.

"What can my pet name be?"

Cami opens her eyes. It's a breezy summer evening outside the palace, where the honeysuckle blooms in her senses and the warm sun tickles her skin. At the fold of her knees on the outdoor loveseat, Roy is tucked against her with his fingers intertwined with hers, twitching restlessly enough that the vibration flutters through to Cami's toes.

"Hmm?" she asks.

"My pet name." He lays against the headrest and regards her with those persuasive, puppy eyes. "You've never given me one."

Cami raises an eyebrow. She calls him Roy because that's his name. She can't shorten it, she can't rearrange it, and she's sure he doesn't want to completely change it. It hasn't exactly left her much to work with, nickname wise, but Roy hasn't ever had a problem with it, and she's puzzled why he's bringing this up now, four years into their relationship.

Frowning, she nudges him with her knee. "I'd hardly say Official Stage Double Checker is a pet name."

The movement only drapes him closer to her, and he lays his head gently over her arm. "I cut it to double checker, that's right. But I don't even have a name to cut. You should give me one, don't you think?"

She hasn't thought about it. It hasn't even crossed her mind.

"Well, what do you want to be called?" Cami shuffles to make herself more comfortable, and more comfortable for him. "Because you know I'm about as a creative as a sock. I'll just end up defaulting to honey or babe."

"Hey, I love my creative sock girlfriend, thank you." He grins, and it overruns his entire, handsome face. "I have some suggestions."

Oh dear. He only makes that face when it's something truly awful and yet so truly Roy. Cami raises her chin and crosses her arms.

"Go on."

"First suggestion!" He sits bolt upright. "Your Most Handsome Majesty."

She stifles a laugh. "As if your title wasn't obnoxious enough."

"I'm only adding the truth to it."

"Then I hate to tell you that your truth is different to everyone else's truth." She leans back. "Besides, it's too much of a mouthful."

"You wound me." He tips his head back in faux pain. "How about my king?"

"Am I your girlfriend or your compliant subject?"

"Why not both?"

She playfully shoves him as he laughs, the muscles in his fingers relaxing for a moment. It's a heady sound, his laugh, like a rich, intoxicating perfume. She could listen to it all day.

"Okay, okay. I thought for more than two seconds about this one." He clears his throat. "How about… Supreme Lover?"

If Cami was drinking, she'd have spit it all over him.

"Supreme, of course," Roy continues, "is a euphemism for the size of my ginormous—"

"Don't you dare."

"— heart." He gasps. "Oh, Cami, were you thinking of something else? Naughty."

She goes to splutter but it's too late, she's red all over. Roy laughs again, falling back against her until they're both laughing, chests fluttering together, their limbs a tangle and their skin hot to touch.

"All right, all right." His head rests on her shoulder, his voice barely over a whisper. "I have one last suggestion."

"Are you sure I can't just call you honey or babe?"

"Well, actually, I was thinking…"

He stands up, tugs the end of his suit jacket… and then he's on one knee.

Oh. Oh.

It hits Cami like a strike of lightning.

Gone is all his bravado. All his flirtatious thumb strokes and the sensuous roll of his tongue. Now he's a ball of jittery, anxious energy, his limbs struggling to bottle his emotions as they shiver in nerves. He pulls out a small velvet box from his pocket.

"I was thinking, maybe… fiancé?"

The box opens with the tiniest flick. Nestled within a red velvet pad is a gold band with a diamond studded into the centre. A simple, plain ring, but no less elegant and so very, very Cami. She loves it; she loves him. Tears well at her eyes even though she's suddenly laughing with a palm across her lips.

"Did you start that whole pet name thing just to set this up?"

"Maaaaaybe." It's with a long, deep breath that he pronounces his next words. "Camilla Vianne Daugherty, will you allow me the great honour of becoming your husband?"

Blurrily she remembers reaching down and wrapping her arms around him. She remembers saying yes, yes, and yes again. She remembers the ring slipping seamlessly onto her finger, and she remembers pressing eager kisses to his lips, her joy a thing of another world.

"So?" he asks, arms around her waist and lips by her neck. "What do you think?"

She hugs back and smiles into his chest.

"I think that's your best suggestion ever… fiancé."

A/N:

Me: I feel uncomfortable writing mushy things. I don't think I'll ever do it.
Also me: *write, edits and posts this within two hours*

I got the idea for this aaaaages ago but I could never figure out how to pad it with words until today when I went "lmao yolo", so here's a short drabble, and I should probably write more drabbles because they're cathartic and fun and not too strenuous to write. Merrick story will eventually come out but that's like a high effort thing where I haven't found that high effort to write, but it will worm it's way to your inbox eventually.

and with that out of the way go roymilla woo

~ GWA

(BTW if you're a tsats reader and you haven't been around a while, hello, I'm writing the tsats sequel with Gail called The Rebound and the Rink. You should read it ;P)