#alycicdebncm

Paul:

The blanket lay exactly where he'd wanted it, spread across the soft grass of Highbury Fields while late afternoon sunlight filtered lazily through the trees. London still murmured around them, softened by distance until it became little more than birdsong, the occasional bark of a dog and laughter drifting somewhere across the park. The warmth settled comfortably against his skin, never overwhelming, the gentle breeze making it the sort of day people secretly hoped for all year without ever saying it aloud. Perfect. He'd gone to more effort than he'd ever admit. Not enough to raise suspicion, of course. They'd had plenty of picnics together over the past few months, and he'd been careful to make this one feel like another version of those. Just... perhaps a slightly more indulgent one.

The basket was filled almost to the brim. A bottle of wine nestled beside three different cheeses because he genuinely couldn't decide on just one. Thick slices of fresh sourdough wrapped in brown paper, buttery pastries from the bakery they'd both loved, crackers, little jars of chutney, olives, grapes, fresh fruit and chocolate-covered strawberries tucked carefully underneath everything else so they wouldn't melt in the sun. Far too much food for two people. Which, admittedly, had become something of a running joke. He smiled to himself. Some traditions were worth keeping. They were settled comfortably against each other sometime after they'd started eating, Alycia half sprawled across his chest, and he found himself absentmindedly tracing slow circles along her arm with his fingertips, his thumb brushing softly over her skin before drifting up to gently comb through her hair. Every now and then his hand wandered to the small of her back, simply resting there as though it belonged. Perhaps it did. Paul wasn't entirely sure when touching her had become second nature. He only knew that every time she was close enough to reach, his hands seemed to find her without asking permission.

His thumb continued its lazy circles before it his hand eventually reached into the bowl beside him until he found a grape, holding it between his fingers with exaggerated seriousness. "Open." He playfully demanded as a grin widened across his face the moment he'd fed it to her. "There we are." He immediately stole one for himself. "Hmm." Paul nodded thoughtfully while chewing. "I stand by it. Grapes taste better outside. Pure science." He reached for one of the chocolate strawberries next, taking a bite before letting out an approving hum. "...Although." He considered it. "The strawberries are putting together a very convincing argument. They're making a strong case." A grin spread across his face before he leaned in to brush the remnants of the strawberry against her bottom lip. "Should try for yourself." While waiting for her to try the strawberry, Paul brushed a lingering kiss against her cheek, another against the corner of her mouth, smiling softly into it before settling back against the blanket with her still comfortably tucked against him.

He couldn't remember ever feeling this peaceful. The breeze stirred the grass around them. Somewhere nearby, someone had brought a speaker, the music so distant that it blended into the afternoon without demanding attention. "I love days like this." His fingers continued their gentle rhythm against her arm. "No one's expecting anything. No schedules. No interviews. No flights. No one asking where we're supposed to be." He breathed in deeply. "It's just..." His eyes wandered lazily across the open field. "...quiet. I don't think people appreciate quiet enough." His voice softened. "We spend so much of our lives talking. Press. Sets. Meetings. Trying to explain things. And then..." He looked back down, smiling almost to himself. "...I get here. And I realise I've never once felt like I had to fill the silence with you." Another pause settled comfortably between his words. "And somehow..." He laughed quietly. "...at exactly the same time...it still feels like we've never talked enough. I don't know how that's possible. We've spent entire nights talking. Whole weekends. Phone calls that somehow became sunrise. And every single time..." His smile grew. "...I still end up thinking about another story I forgot to tell you. Or another question I meant to ask. Or something stupid I saw that I know you'd laugh at." He shook his head affectionately. "It's like my brain has quietly decided every thought eventually belongs in a conversation with you." His fingers drifted into her hair again, carefully brushing a few strands away before resting gently against the side of her neck.

"I love talking to you. I don't just mean because I love you. I genuinely love the way your mind works. You make me curious. You make me laugh. You make me question things I'd never have thought twice about before. You somehow manage to make me feel like the smartest lad in the room..." He smiled. "...and five minutes later remind me I've absolutely no idea what I'm talking about." He laughed again. "It's a remarkable talent." Paul leaned down for another slow kiss before resting his forehead lightly against hers, closing his eyes for a brief moment.

Alycia:

The warmth of his chest beneath is a familiar anchor for Alycia, there was the steady rhythm that felt more like home than any apartment or hotel room left behind in their collective pasts. Alycia shifts slightly, letting the fabric of his shirt bunch beneath her fingers as she curls into him more, really folds into him entirely content to let the rest of London exist as nothing more than a faint, muted hum in the background, forgotten about for all of right now. Highbury Fields could be the entire world right now, and she wouldn't care. Well it was really easy to make it the whole world when a man like this was now offering up a juicy grape after a rather tantalizing little command, one that made all her indies bubble up. When that absurdly serious expression accompanies his words, she can't help the laugh one that bubbles up like the previous excitement in her, her plush pink lips parting just enough to accept it. She doesn't really chew just holds it between her teeth toying with it for the display of it to him alone, watching the boyish grin spread across his face as he claims his scientific victory. "I don't doubt your methods of uncovering this were of the most rigorous scientific nature?" Alycia teased, her voice low and relaxed while she did it, thick in it to match the sensual laziness they found in this scene on a . "If you ask me the outdoor-grape phenomenon really needs to be a funded topic." Her smile rounding so little dimples turning out in her cheeks. But then she witnesses him reaching for the chocolate-covered strawberry, and the playful banter melts into something entirely different. Closing her eyes her whole body almost giving in to the erotic movements of one strawberry but it’s movement undeniable illicit. The sweet, rich scent of the fruits and charcuterie setting the mood further. The ghost of a shiver chases down Alycia's spine at the touch, a breathless smile catching in her very throat. Eyes opening in their true doe form as she leans up just enough to take the bite he's offering, the rich chocolate and sharp sweetness bursting in her very tongue, but her focus is entirely stolen by the warmth of his lips. He kisses her cheek, a tender, lingering press of skin that makes her moan without hesitation, without any restraint, and then another right at the corner of her mouth. Humming further agains this lips it's almsot more than she can take threatening to throw her over in lust as she tasted the faint trace of strawberry and wine on him, leaning into the soft smile he shares with her before he settles back down.

In listening to him, his voice like a pure classical violin strike, as her head finds a resting place on his chest, but big doe eyes can't take themselves off go him, looking up at him as he speaks. The dappled sunlight catches the edges of his hair as he continues on saying such sweet things about being comfortable and real around each other, his beautiful curls turning the stray strands gold, and her whole chest feels what loving a human, every bit of them feels like in this exact moment.

Alycia can't help but listen to the cadence of his voice, devoid of the careful modulation he uses for press junkets or the projecting tone of a set. It's just Paul. Raw, quiet, and entirely hers. When he talks about the silence, Alycia's heart does a slow, heavy roll right there in her chest, it's excitement it's most pure raw parts and she must reach out to him, reaching up and letting fingers trailing lazily up the front of his shirt, tracing the collarbone she's memorized over and over again "Because this maybe the most intimate place where we don't have to perform in any manner in" she says in a soft inviting voice, filling the space he left with a gentle certainty of this truth. "With everyone else, we have either the version of ourselves they paid to see, or the version they expect. But here..." She gentle nudges her nose against his jaw, breathing him in and his salty touch of sea air cologne while she does it. "I don't have to explain myself to you, Paul. You just get it. You always have." Speaking to this unique connection they know is one in a million. They can feel is one in a million. It was lucky they found each other, intoxicating truly that did, It’s what he says next that makes the breath hitch in her very throat. It’s like his brain has quietly decided every thought eventually belongs in the most sweetest of poems and state devotion of love. The sheer honesty of it wraps around Alycia, warmer than the July sun beating down on the blanket. Her fingers freeze for a second against his chest, her eyes locked on his as his hand drifts to the side of her neck. His thumb is warm against her very pulse, she can feel him reading her, he’s so close he can pick up every little cue and indicator within her.

She let out a soft, breathy laugh, as the tears forced by this overwhelming affection prickle at the corners of her yes, though she tries to blink it away before it can fall. He leans down, his forehead resting lightly against hers, his eyes closing, as Alycia makes the bold choice to just drink in the absolute safety of his proximity. "You're being the world's greatest love poet right now" she whispers against his lips, the words a fierce, tender endearment. She brings her hand to cup his jaw, her thumb smoothing over the slight stubble there, golden freckled eyes meeting one another in a deep soul staring look that says it all.. "A brilliant, hopelessly romantic barb." Looking at him from mere inches away, letting him see every ounce of the adoration he just poured into her reflected right back. "I spent so long thinking that love had to be this loud, exhausting thing," Alycia confessed with her voice barely louder than the breeze rustling the leaves above them. "Full of grand gestures and constant reassurance. But then I met you. And I realized it's actually just... this. It's keeping a list of stupid things in your head all day just because you can't wait to see me laugh at them. It's three different cheeses because we both just enjoy the selection and each other enjoying the selection. It's knowing that even if we ran out of words forever, I'd still want to spend the rest of my life sitting in the quiet with you." Leaning up close the tiny distance between them, catching his lips in a slow, deep kiss that tastes of chocolate and everything that was yet to be said. Taking her time Alycia, letting the weight of her love press into him, her hand finding ways to thread into those inviting curls. Alycia pulls back just fraction, her breathing pattern now mingling with his, forming a jagged but steady song, a wicked, soft smile touches her lips. "And for the record," I murmur, nipping playfully at his bottom lip. "I love you and I love hearing your words, your thoughts, your feelings. I will never feel not let in on a big secret I want to keep safe with them." But she smirked at herself before she even said the next words. "Well someone has to pull you back to the tracks because you give me my own cliffhangers sometimes" Giggling relishing in this little further bubble of tangible love they have made now.

Paul:

Every reaction to him, every look she gave him, every tender smile she wore made his heart feel as though it might burst clean out of his chest. Sometimes he could scarcely believe the amount of love he carried for her, the uninhibited joy she seemed to coax out of him without ever trying, nor the simple fact that he could never quite get enough of her. It wasn't an exaggeration or some fleeting phase. Sure, it was easy enough to say when they hadn't even reached a year together yet, but there was no logical explanation for it. It was simply a feeling that had settled somewhere too deep to be dismissed. Too honest to blame on rose-coloured glasses. And it was returned. He could feel that just as surely as he heard it in the quiet confessions she whispered against his lips now. Their faces remained only inches apart, matching smiles lingering between them after a kiss he'd carry with him for the rest of his days. One of those moments that seemed too delicate to belong to the ordinary world. Especially when she added even more sweetness to it. "I'll treasure that, love. Truly. You make it so easy to let you into every corner of my head and every feeling sitting in my chest, because I never once wonder what you’ll do with them. There's something about the way you love me that settles everything. And I know, without a shadow of a doubt, my heart's safe with you." Paul's hand found hers almost instinctively, their fingers threading together as he lifted them into the golden afternoon light. Funny. Something so technically ordinary had absolutely no business making his chest feel this full. "You're doing a grand job of keeping me grounded," he murmured with a gentle grin. "And keeping my ego in check." Her giggle earned another helpless smile from him, his gaze wandering over every familiar detail of her face as though he were quietly committing it all to memory.

There was a little box tucked away inside the picnic basket. His mind drifted to it. He'd only collected it that morning, convincing himself he'd simply know when the time was right. He'd half expected to carry it around for weeks. Maybe months. To wait for some impossibly cinematic moment that would somehow announce itself. Instead, it had arrived looking exactly like this. A half-finished bottle of wine. Crumbs from bread they'd stolen from each other's plates. The blanket beginning to crease beneath them. Her hand in his. The breeze stirring the trees overhead while London carried on somewhere beyond the park without asking anything of them. There wasn't a string quartet hiding behind a tree. No fireworks. No audience. Just them. And somehow, that made it feel impossibly significant. He looked at her for another long moment, smiling to himself before letting out the smallest, almost nervous laugh. "You know…" His thumb absent-mindedly brushed across the back of her hand. "I've realised something over the last seven months." His eyes searched hers, not because he doubted himself, but because she had always been the place he'd instinctively looked whenever something mattered. "I've spent half of my adult life making plans. Filming schedules, flights, where I'll be next Tuesday, what next year looks like. It's become second nature." Another tiny smile found him. "But somewhere along the way…" he admitted quietly, "…every plan I made started leaving a space for you before I'd even noticed I was doing it." He glanced down at their joined hands, giving them the gentlest squeeze. "When I picture somewhere I'd like to go, you're already there. When something falls apart, you're still the voice I know I'll hear at the end of the day." His expression softened into something almost impossibly fond. "And I don't think it's because you've become part of my life." He shook his head ever so slightly.

"I think it's because you've become part of the way I imagine my future." The words settled between them, carried only by birdsong and the rustle of leaves. "I don't know what it'll all look like," he continued. "We'll make mistakes. We'll probably argue over whose turn it is to cook and eventually discover one of us snores far worse than the other. There'll be jobs that pull us in opposite directions now and again. Flights. Long days. Life refusing to stick to the script." A quiet chuckle escaped him. "But none of that worries me very much." He reached up, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear with a tenderness that seemed almost reverent. "Because every version of tomorrow that feels worth walking into…" His smile grew softer still. "…has you somewhere in it." For just a heartbeat, he hesitated. Not from uncertainty. Simply because he wanted to remember this exact second before it changed both of their lives forever. His free hand slipped quietly into the picnic basket. When it emerged again, there was no dramatic flourish. Only the small velvet box resting in his palm. His eyes never left hers. "I don't think I'm asking you to marry me," he said with a smile that trembled ever so slightly. "I think I'm asking whether you'd let me keep choosing you… over and over again… for the rest of whatever this life gives us." He opened the box. The afternoon sun caught the ring he'd so carefully designed for her for only a moment before his attention returned entirely to her. "So…" he whispered, his voice barely louder than the breeze moving through Highbury Fields. "…what do you think about making forever our next plan come true?"

Alycia:

Sitting this close, breathing the same air, she was struck by how effortless all of this felt. Less than a year ago, they were stepping into the unknown, living their own paths and nothing about that felt wrong at the time, but then they did cross paths and now she couldn't imagine her world without the steady part of her life he had become. Loving him hadn't been some violent crash or a chaotic tumble; while the realization that she loved him was sudden there was a further gradual, beautiful opening of doors she hadn't even realized were locked. With him, there was no need to guard her thoughts, or hold back the depth of what she felt. He had became the place where her heart felt entirely, unreservedly safe. She leaned in just enough to him, letting the comfort of his presence sink in. Suddenly it washed upon her all these words were going somewhere, not like they didn't before but they were being said for a specific reason right now. When his free hand dipped into the picnic basket, her heart gave a sudden, hard thud against her ribs. She'd watched his fingers emerge with that small velvet box in his clutches, and a soft, soft gasp slipped past her lips, it was uncensored and utterly helpless in that moment.

The warm afternoon air itself seemed to freeze the moment that velvet box appeared, but for Alycia, the world had already stopped moving the second before when he began to speak such beautiful things. When Paul spoke about the last seven months, her eyes had never left his. Every word felt like a physical warmth settling deep within her chest, a soft, overwhelming tide of emotion that made her throat tighten in the most wonderful way. She had listened with a quiet, breathy intensity, her tender smile widening as he admitted to leaving spaces for her in his future. When his thumb brushed over her hand, her fingers squeezed back in more than a instinctive, subconscious response but from joy in the sheer weight of all his honesty. Her gaze darted to the ring for only the fraction of a second it took for the golden London light to catch it, it was very clear, it was written all over it how much he picked out that ring for her. Made her want to look at him all the more, it was him she wanted to look at. She looked at the slight tremble in his smile, the quiet vulnerability in his eyes, and the reverent way he held her hand.

By the time he finished speaking, by the time those final words set into her soul, when he asked that final question to her, it filled the quiet space of Highbury Fields. Tears had already well-up, bright and brimming, in the corners of her eyes and now freely fell. They didn't fall from any sadness; they fell because her heart simply had nowhere else to store the sudden, magnificent overflow of love she felt for him. Her breath was still caught in her throat, the world around them shrinking down until there was nothing left except the warmth of his hand intertwined with hers, the golden London light framing his face, and the quiet, monumental meaning of the ring resting between them. For a second, the soft rustle of the trees in Highbury Fields, the distant hum of the city, even the beating of her own heart seemed to freeze as all that mattered was the answer blaring in her ears in response. Alycia looked down at the velvet box again,at the ring she knew he'd so thoughtfully designed just for her, and then back up into Paul's eyes. Whatever lingering warmth had been in her chest moments ago suddenly rushed straight to her face, blushing out her face in excitement.

A soft smile broke across her face, spontaneous and entirely unchecked. A single tear slipped down her cheek, but she didn't bother to wipe it away. Instead, she leaned forward, her free hand coming up to gently cup the side of his cheek, her thumb tracing his cheekbone with the exact same reverence he had shown her moments before. "Paul…" her voice was barely a whisper, thick and raspy because it was so very with emotion, yet anchored by an absolute, unshakable certainty set in from when he first asked. She let out a breath that was half-laugh, half-sob, shaking her head softly as she looked at him, at the man who had seamlessly rewritten every definition of home she'd ever known now. "You absolute fool," she murmured, a watery, breathless laugh now escaping her lips more freely as her eyes searched his trembling smile. "You talk about leaving a space for me in your plans and I completely know what you mean cause I have completely restructured the way I see everything already. Somewhere in the last seven months in blossomed into realizing that nowhere feels quite right unless you're standing in it with me. Probably born from the very start with you" She shifted closer on the creased blanket, her knees pressing against his at this point, utterly refusing to let even an inch of air sit between them.

"I don't care about the long days, or the flights, or the chaos of whatever scripts life tries to hand us," she said, her voice growing steady, filled with a fiercely grounded love. "And for the record? I already know you're going to be the worse snorer. In other words I know all the struggle points already and I still don't feel anything but a yes deep within my bones. I want nothing more than to choose you every single damn day cause they all have been the best days of my life since you came in" She sing songed while staring right into his eyes. Her smile deepened, as such a radiance shined through they were now absolutely matching in, the joy pouring through her tears as she squeezed his han, the one still holding hers so tightly. "So that is a yes," she whispered, leaning in until her forehead rested against his, their breaths mingling in the quiet space between them. "A thousand times, yes. Keep choosing me. Let me keep choosing you. Let's make forever our plan." She didn't wait another second before bringing her lips to his, sealing the promise in a kiss that was slow, deep, and heavy with all the unwritten tomorrows waiting just beyond the afternoon light.

Paul:

Paul had imagined this moment so many times in the last month that he'd convinced himself he might mess this up and not even get a word out this time around. Luckily he'd been wrong. And then there was the way she looked at him now, something no amount of imagining had ever managed to prepare him for. Her eyes had filled before she'd even answered, tears gathering so honestly that they seemed to catch every shard of the late afternoon sun. They weren't graceful movie tears. They weren't neat. They spilled over because she couldn't hold them anymore, and somehow that undid him far more than if she'd stayed composed. A reason why he almost missed her first word. His own breathing had become something unfamiliar, shallow enough that his ribs ached beneath it. Every muscle in his body was taut with hope he'd tried desperately not to nurture in the seconds before she'd spoken. It had seemed safer to expect nothing than risk imagining everything.

Then she called him an absolute fool. A laugh escaped him before he could stop it, wet around the edges, breaking apart halfway through because relief had hit him like a wave against rock. "That's fair," he breathed, his smile trembling wider. "Can't even argue with that." Paul didn't interrupt after that. He couldn't, every sentence she offered him felt impossibly precious, something to cradle instead of answer. As she spoke about reshaping her future, about nowhere feeling right unless he was in it, he felt something inside himself quietly surrender. The last stubborn fragments of fear he'd carried, the tiny voice that still whispered this is too good, it'll disappear, simply... dissolved. She'd chosen him. Not despite the difficult bits - including them. When she teased him about snoring, his eyes squeezed shut for a heartbeat as another helpless laugh escaped him. "I do not snore," he protested automatically, voice cracking halfway through the lie. "...Right, maybe a little." His thumb brushed absentmindedly across the back of her hand, almost as though he needed reminding she was still there. Still real. Still saying yes.

By the time she reached a thousand times, yes, his own eyes had become impossible to keep dry. Tears blurred the edges of her face until she looked almost haloed by the sunlight stretching lazily across Highbury Fields. He'd never understood people saying happiness hurt. But he did now. It sat behind his ribs, impossibly full, almost painful in its size. When she rested her forehead against his, his eyes slipped closed immediately. Their noses brushed together, breaths mingling, and for one suspended second London ceased to exist. No distant traffic. No dogs chasing tennis balls across the grass. No laughter drifting from strangers somewhere beyond them. Just her. Always her. He smiled so helplessly that his cheeks ached. "You're perfect, Lys." He whispered, his voice scarcely louder than the breeze weaving through the trees. 

His hand finally found the ring again, fingers still shaking as he carefully lifted it from the velvet box, suddenly terrified of fumbling it now that she'd actually said yes. A nervous laugh slipped from him. "Christ, imagine if I dropped this now." He glanced down at the blanket as though already searching for it in the grass. "That'd be a rotten start to the engagement." Another soft laugh escaped him before he looked back up at her. The one-of-a-kind ring, which he'd spent weeks designing alongside jewellers in Boston, caught the afternoon sunlight perfectly. The diamonds scattered light in every direction, while the galaxy stone, cradling a delicate crescent moon, tiny stars, and constellations within its depths, seemed almost as infinite as the confessions of love they'd just shared. Even so, he found himself just a little more excited for the moment she'd discover the quieter details he'd hidden inside it, the tiny alien nestled along the side, waiting to be found with the slightest tilt of her hand. 

When his eyes finally lifted from the ring to her again, his expression softened almost instantly. Paul took Alycia's left hand with tenderness, brushing his thumb once across her knuckles before slowly sliding the ring onto her finger. It fit. Perfectly. The breath he'd been unknowingly holding escaped him in one long, shaking exhale. "Almost like it was made just for you," He teased playfully, knowing full well it had been made for her and her alone. No one else would have understood the meaning behind its tiny details, the carefully hidden references, or the reasons each one had found its place within the ring. His fiancée. The word flashed across his mind and promptly short-circuited every coherent thought he had left. He looked at her hand for another second before lifting it to his lips, pressing a kiss against her knuckles. "My fiancée." Paul shook his head softly at the word as though it sounded too extraordinary to belong to him. "My God..." Another kiss pressed against skin, this time to the inside of her wrist. "I get to call you that."