Word Count: 1901
Harry and five or more shots of hard liquor do not belong in the same sentence together.
They shouldn't be even in the same reason either but that isn't an option as you've figured when you urged him to have a night out with the boys as it was clear he's all stressed, huffing at the slightest convenience that you think it's best for him to relieve it with the people he's been with in going through it - no curfew for your love as you've reminded Jeff, but only the one condition that Harry sleeps at home.
It was with hesitation that he just said "eh, okay" before getting dressed, a question of "are you sure y'really don't want me to stay at home with you?" as if to appease some of his guilt that he's willing now to go out compared to five minutes ago, as if he's waiting for second thoughts before he gets undressed again.
It's late in the night - rather early in the morning - that you hear the hum of Jeff's engine outside, remembering that Harry opted out from bringing his car because he reasoned that he wants to be the one driven and not the one driving this time, hands across his chest being stubborn at thinking that he gets to be the one who consumes the least amount of alcohol again.
He's gonna have this type of break only once in a while - might as well try to be selfish. Jeff's become the assigned driver now and Mitch is only thankful because he is not in the mood either to be stepping on pedals anymore longer from being so cooped up in the studio.
The guitarist knows and really knows Harry is gonna pull off another joke that goes along the lines of "like how you're driving, Mitch. Y'shred faster than y'go about in a below-60 speed limit" and it's a two-minute laughing round, just a brief grace period, and all around that night would he suddenly remember his joke, whisper it to himself, and he's choking on his drink and slapping his knee again.
It's on some level of awe when Jeff comes in your front door with his spare key that he's only gotten used to because this boys' night out was long-due, coming in with your love that's being carried by him - quite a sight actually because Harry's taller than Jeff and he's crouching a bit, all for his feet to be just a few centimeters hovering around the ground; enough to make his manager make him believe in this state that he's more-on carrying him and less of dragging him.
"Ease off on Jeff, lovie - you're-..."
Without a doubt does he perk his head up, almost as if he didn't puke awhile ago with his head spinning, turning on his heel and then lets his body collapse on yours, head nuzzling to the crook of your neck and this time does he really not care if his feet are on the ground, just as long as he gets to take the scent of you in.
It's intoxicating almost. Felt as if the club was one of the high-end perfume boutiques he's spent the last hour trying to sniff each and every one that the moment he's got out of the store, he had completely lost his sense of smell; however as cheesy as it sounds, the scent of you sort of grounds him and reminds him that he's at home already.
The next five minutes were tricky enough; saying your thanks and goodbyes to Jeff, Harry still being insistent that you do not let go of him and explains in his drunken mumbles that if you do let go of him, he will cry.
Felt like an empty threat coming from him, being so awe-struck in the situation that you tried playing with him by acting for a second that you're taking him out of your embrace, and the slight shift's alarmed him enough as you could already hear the blubbering bubbling in his throat that you soothe him in an instant.
"Heyyyy, hey! Was just kidding, lovie - don't cry now, yeah? How about we just go upstairs, clean y'up, then put you to bed, hm?"
Harry with every remaining sense in him nods no, instead pointing (to nowhere, honestly) and mumbling "couch" to direct you, having to heave him up for the short distance.
In all aspects except physical, he's truly knocked out and knackered. All seems to point out that you could both soon drift into sleep with how droopy his eyes were getting and his grip on your shirt loosening, being re-adjusted to him facing up and lying down on your lap, and that seems to be the right trigger-
The right one for him to gain much more consciousness as he almost shoots awake, falling back down to your thighs with a giggle.
He looks especially more adorable under this soft lighting. Eyes spent and mouth giggling yet still looking the most dreamy person you've ever seen. You don't really know why he's giggling so hard at the moment and you don't think he does either, but he's just radiating so much of his drunk innocence that you can't help but join him.
"Y'gorgeous."
He manages to sneak in the moment his giggles die down, more of a reaffirmation to himself and it's not as if he's ever doubted it in the first place. It was a firm statement apart from being an observation, nodding to himself when he lets it sink in.
"Like... really gorgeous, y'know? A-an angel! Are y'an angel?"
Harry saves a gasp for the last part of his gorgeous rambling, looking so genuine that you don't think he's kidding around with how his eyes are wide and his mouth's agape.
Looks so pure and amusing with his eyes narrowing and head tilting as if it would help him see you in detail better (if he's being honest and sober, it only made him see you blurry and in slits), just like a toddler who's doing all these things just because the bub knows the other person is being entertained which is why he repeats it again and again, until he himself if laughing.
He's laughing so purely, eyes wrinkling and nose scrunching, his head tilting to face your tummy as he wordlessly attempts to muffle his laughter by laughing against you directly, hands squeezing your bits that are the closest to him as he's so happy he didn't need to explain himself.
"Are y'mine?"
Harry asks what didn't need to be a question, glassy doe-like eyes looking up at you as he waits for a response.
"'Course I am, lovie."
He nods to that, smiling dreamily to himself as he gets his figure situated more cozily into your lap, almost melting as he does so.
"Am I yours?"
He asks again but this time does he have his eyes narrowed almost questioningly, looking to it that he seems like he's gonna bawl when given the wrong answer and he's just waiting as the time ticks, head tilting to the smile that began to form in your lips.
"Do you not want to?"
"No! Wait. S'a no on the do I not - y'making my head hurt."
Harry whines and just about gives up on trying to elaborate and defend himself to the best of his abilities which you understood, huffing to himself.
A wasted and a grumpy him doesn't exactly sit well with anyone either, which is why he's ultimately comforted by head rubs, almost instantly smiling the moment your fingers tangle with his curls.
It's a soft and serene moment in which the both of you are half-asleep and no one's in a rush to go anywhere or do anything. It was just a display of normalcy and domesticity craved ever so often, coming in the views of soft lighting and light snores.
You almost entirely drift to sleep when he cuts it in close again at the last minute, gently shaking you awake with his eyes glassy and lips whispering, leaving you no choice but to try and be awake again.
"Wanna see what I got?"
He sleepily asks, a seemingly-default dreamy smile indenting on his dimples as he awaits for a reply he already knows at the back of his head.
You nod, a small smile to what he's gonna be pulling off again now and until what time could you be getting your pure and uninterrupted rest.
Harry fumbles around for a bit, raising his bum which was quite a task because he's still quite wobbly, hands digging into the bottomless pockets of his wide trousers.
At some point in time could you not register what's going on because you're then faced to a smiling Harry, holding on to a ring.
A dainty yet obviously elegant engagement ring - a gold band and a stone that had some pink to it that's modest yet not exactly shy in showing off, his eyes flickering between you and the piece of jewelry.
"Jeff said to because he said I talk too much about marryin' you - then we stopped for some food on the way home and... yeah. Bought you a ring."
Harry says it almost as an afterthought, storytelling and oblivious to how your eyes are wide and so near into tearing up, hands covering your gaping mouth as he babbles on.
He's acting so natural (perhaps with the ease of alcohol) and breezy, smiling in fact as he talks on about the ring and how he just knew that it had to be this (he was sure of it even if he was drunk) or else he was threatening Jeff that he would cry if your size wasn't available.
"Will y'marry me?"
He only looks up now and then does he notice your soft giggles and warm tears streaming down your face, making his face twitch up in concern as he almost drops the ring when he's got his hands up to wipe at your tears.
"Ask me in the morning, bubby."
"Y'not gonna marry me?"
He frowns, speaking in an extremely dejected and sad tone as it looks like that he's gonna cry himself too.
"I am! I am gonna marry you, y'goose! Just - ask me in the morning, hm? When y'not drunk and m'not sleepy?"
"S'morning now."
"Sunrise then."
He's thinking his choices over and it's as if he has anything else otherwise, brows furrowed as he settles to accomodate you lying down next to him on the rather large couch.
"Will y'still marry me in the morning later then?"
Harry genuinely asks, head whipping to you as he's the little spoon of the time being, the giggle reverberating in your chest tickling him as he could only do the same.
"Still will, lovie."
Warmth would be an understatement to how everything feels in every aspect; warmer than to how his body ran, softer than to how his cheek presses to your chest with no doubts, lovelier than to how the diamond in the ring he's yet to give you glints.
"M'kay," he says with ease now and Harry only melts furthermore, warmth overtaking his bones as he smiles out of second nature when a longing kiss is pressed to his cheek.
"In the morning then."
