A/N: This is my first Portwell fic! I hope you enjoy :)

/

She looks peaceful, he thinks, sitting across from Gina near the windowsill. The city is half-asleep with the sky a bruised purple, tiny stars speckled over the curved canvas. She's leaning against the wall and her eyelids are shut, lashes fanned out against her cheeks.

Their apartment is in chaos, the two having just hosted a reunion party with their high school friends, which had taken an entire Excel spreadsheet to plan out since everyone had different schedules. Carlos had promptly lost it when he found out him and Gina were living under the same roof, much to his amusement.

"When did this happen?" Carlos demanded. "Gina!" He scanned the room for the guilty party. She waved from the sofa next to Ashlyn and then continued their conversation without so much as a glance back.

EJ decided to take him out of his misery and replied, "A month ago. After Gina graduated college."

Carlos gave up his act and cracked a wide grin. "I'm so happy for you guys! But also, how dare you not tell me sooner."

"Sorry," EJ said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. He took a sip of ginger ale from his plastic cup. "I thought Gina told you. You guys text, like, every three days."

"Well, you guys can make it up by giving me the first wedding invitation."

EJ choked and immediately produced violent coughs. Kourtney shot him a concerned look from her corner. He pounded his chest. "Yeah...Of course, of course," he wheezed.

Carlos ignored his dying fit. "You know, you already remind me of an old married couple."

EJ laughed, half in pain. "How?"

"No, I'm serious," Carlos insisted gravely. "You two are so comfortable with each other. I'm kind of jealous."

Comfortable. EJ glanced over at his girlfriend, who spotted him and winked. He sent her a thumbs up and she rolled her eyes.

If he was being honest, "comfortable" was probably an understatement. Gina picked up his dirty laundry without batting an eyelash and would shove his feet off her lap if they were watching a movie because she'd tell him how gross they were. And EJ didn't care if she sang too loudly and too often in their tiny space because he thought her singing was beautiful and felt more alone in its absence. Both of them took turns cooking each day, but if one of them was evidently too tired, the other would take the shift, and if neither of them had the energy, they ordered takeout or something.

Plus, he'll never forget the night Gina came home from an outing with her co-workers and vomited the contents of her dinner in the toilet at two in the morning. He rubbed her back soothingly while she cried about the stupid restaurant and their shitty meal and their lack of medicine in the house for stomach pain.

Now, he reaches out and brushes a strand of hair from her cheek, her breathing slow and steady as she sleeps. Quietly, he gets up from his own spot on the floor and begins to clean up the coffee table, littered with bags of chips and splashes of salsa. As he does this, he can't help but think of Carlos' words.

As a teenager, EJ had heard of what followed the honeymoon phase, the falling out of love where one realizes their partner isn't everything they had expected. On social media, he saw various articles and posts citing commitment as the remedy for dwindling affection, that both partners needed to actively choose to continue loving the other, even when things got rough.

Secretly, he tried applying this advice to his first real relationship, hoping to make sense of the crash and burn.

It never worked.

Maybe it was because him and Nini never reached that kind of longevity in the first place: it ended abruptly and swiftly, and it was EJ who messed up and and Nini who let go. He understands it had been for the better.

Still, EJ had wondered if he would ever find someone who'd fight the slow fade alongside him - if he would meet someone who'd willingly stick with him long enough to feel it.

Falling in love with Gina had been nerve wracking. He'd braced himself - braced himself for the high and the fallout - because he had never been so terrified to lose someone in his life. What if she suddenly woke up one morning and decided he wasn't enough? What if he couldn't offer her anything new? What would he say to make her stay?

The slow fade never came around, though. He waited and waited and waited, but his fondness for her never changed, not even after their countless kisses and risotto nights, not after the millionth time they said "I love you" to each other on the steps of Gina's porch.

His adoration never wavered, despite the nights she would shut herself in her room after an argument (he would wait outside her door, and she'd join him when she was ready to talk), or on the days he would distance himself when he was too anxious about the future (she always came around when he was more receptive and held his hand in silence).

Selfishness, schemes, fake dating. The redemption and the growth. They had seen each other through the rain and sun, and they had carried on like that ever since, moving through the ebb and flow of the highs and lows without getting caught up in a storm.

It's why he's not afraid anymore. There would be no honeymoon phase and no expectations to shatter as a result of the aforementioned, and the reason for it was so incredibly simple: he had always known her, and she knew him, long before they had begun.

EJ tries to turn the sink on and wash the dishes without making a fuss, but soon enough, Gina stirs. He looks over his shoulder, wiping down the plate in his hands.

"Hey, babe," he teases, seeing her dazed expression. "Is your back okay? I didn't want to move you in case you'd wake up."

A beautiful, sleepy smile greets him, the corners of her mouth lifting. Damn. "I'm okay," she murmurs, unaware of how flustered EJ is.

He turns to the sink again, humming to clear his thoughts. He hears her get up and pad over to the counter to get a glass of water. At least, that's what he thinks, until he feels her wrap her arms around him in a tight hug from behind.

"Hi," she says. "Thanks for cleaning up."

He nods and squeezes her arm. "You can go sleep now. I'll sweep the floor and stuff."

She doesn't move. Instead she asks, "What were you and Carlos talking about earlier?"

Oh. EJ gently pries her arms off him and dries his hands. He takes in her curious expression and racks his brain for a suitable answer. "I owe him something."

"Owe him?" Gina chuckles, shaking her head. "What could you possibly owe him?"

The tips of his ears start to burn with embarrassment, but he hopes she doesn't notice. "It's a secret. For now."

She hums thoughtfully. "When will I get to know?"

The truth is, he doesn't have an inkling of when he'll propose to her, but he does know that no matter what happens, he won't be scared to get down on one knee and meet her eyes, just like he's doing now. And it'll definitely involve risotto somehow. He'll make sure of it.

For now, he leans down and kisses her forehead. "When the time is right. Pinky promise."

She eyes him warily but laughs as soon as he sticks out his pinky finger, the sound of her voice washing over him – a gentle melody that always keeps his demons at bay. She completes the gesture. "I'll remember this."

EJ raises an eyebrow. "Have I ever broken my promises to you?"

"No," she says softly, looking at him in a way that makes his stomach flip. "You always keep your word. Except there was this one time when you promised you wouldn't keep secrets-"

"Oh, come on-"

"Just kidding!" She pokes him in the chest, and he pulls her in, burying his face in the crook of her neck. "You know I trust you, right?"

"I know," he says, and he really does mean it.

The promise is fulfilled two years later, and Carlos meets EJ and Gina on his doorstep in the spring. They hand over a cream-coloured envelope with his name on it, beaming. Carlos cries with joy and practically speedwalks inside his place to tell Seb, shouting that the old married couple is actually getting married.

"This is not a drill!" they hear him shriek.

Gina laughs and laughs, and EJ joins in, no doubt in his mind that they're going to be alright.