A/N: A collection of 'fluff' which is just me getting to write out all of the hopes I had for Lou and Will as a couple.
It was quiet in the annexe. Quiet and dark. I looked around in surprise to see all of the curtains had been draped shut. The home was lit by candles on the floor, candles on the bench top, candles everywhere. Had there been a power outage? Was Will's chair charged enough to get him through?
"Will?" I called as I put my bag on the kitchen table.
"In here!"
I walked into the living room, half expecting Will to be in a mood due to the darkness but that was the opposite of what I found. The living room had more little tealight candles lighting up the room where hundreds of rose petals decorated the floor and chair. And Will... Will was not in his chair. He was on the couch, his arm lazily draped over the side in a suit that had been tailored to perfect. He looked as if he would have been able to get up and greet me, so comfortable out of his chair, but we both knew the truth. A bottle of champagne had been poured for us in two glasses and a small box sat on the table. I sat beside him, beneath his arm and snuggled into his side, moving his arm to wrap around me and threading my fingers through his. It had become such a routine, to be gently nestled against Will.
"What's all this?" I asked as an amused Will looked at me. He was freshly shaven and smelled wonderful, a cologne I didn't recognise. He had a baby blue shirt beneath his black suit jacket, complimenting his eyes which shone so brightly that night.
"You, Miss Louisa Clark, are wonderful. Do you know that?" he grinned at me. I laughed, kissing his cheek.
"What are you up to, Will Traynor?"
He looked at me innocently, a silent hum of excitement radiating off him. He met my gaze. "I know I can't offer you everything I might have five years ago, Clark... but I'll be damned if I don't give you everything I can." I squeezed his fingers, knowing that reminding him that he wouldn't have given me a second look, let alone loved me, five years ago, would serve of no purpose.
He lifted his hand a little, pointing at the box on the coffee table where the champagne lay. "Open it." I unwrapped myself from Will and picked up the box, coloured a blue velvet. I admired it for a moment, wondering if I'd have any purpose for it in the future. Then I opened it to a ring. I almost fainted.
"Clark," Will grinned at me, almost unsurely. "I promise to stay with you until my last breath, promise to stick with you in health and sickness... I promise to take you on adventures and not be trapped by my chair. I promise you a good life. Clark... will you marry me?"
I felt tears drip down my face as I stared at the ring. A golden band with stones decorating the focal point of the ring: a large diamond. I could tell just from the look of it that it had cost more than I'd have made in six months of pay, perhaps even a year. Despite unsure of how I felt about hoisting that rock around all day, I could see it. The life with Will, the rest of my life spent by his side.
He laughed. "Is that a yes? I didn't mean to make you cry..."
I laughed too, shaking my head. "Happy tears, happy tears, I promise. Yes, a million times yes, Will!" I placed the ring carefully on my finger, testing it's weight on my hand, surprised at how natural it felt on my finger.
Will waited a moment before impatience caught him. "Well, let me kiss my fiancee, damn it Clark!"
Will was not soft. Never had been, never will be. He was logical and to the point and wouldn't spare your feelings if it came to telling the truth. It's almost funny, seeing someone so constantly solid, crumble. When I'd held our son to Will's lap, Will cried. Not in the silent crying way but in the snotty, messy sobbing of somebody who had lost hope so long ago. Someone who had given up the thought of ever having sex, let alone children. And here he was with his son.
