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Zayn and I ordered room service the next morning and spent the morning feeding each other in our pillow fort. We talked about everything and anything, and more than once I was laughing so hard that I cried. The plan was to spend the day in Belfast, then we'd all fly back to London tonight. I guessed that everyone else was out and about enjoying Northern Ireland, but I was completely content to spend the day indoors with Zayn and he seemed to feel the same. 

"Please wear your glasses more often," I told him as he slipped them on. "You're so cute when you've got them on."

"If that's what you want, love," he replied after giving me a sweet kiss on the lips. "I like this."

"Like what?"

"Spending my whole day in here. No phones, no internet, no crazy Louis screaming, or Michelle yelling, or fans taking pictures. Just us, together."

"I like it too. There is nothing I like more than just getting to spend my morning with you, Zayn." He smiled my favorite crooked smile and I crawled so I was sitting next to him. He pulled me into his side, and kissed the top of my head. I sighed with content and looked up into his eyes. "I love you."

"I love you too, Gemma." We settled into a comfortable silence for a few minutes before he spoke again. "Let's get married."

"Maybe one day we'll get married," I agreed.

"No, I mean right now. Marry me," he replied.

I looked into his eyes, expecting to see them sparkling with amusement, but his expression was completely serious. "You're serious?"


I could feel my eyes welling with happy tears. This kind, beautiful, sweet, amazing boy wanted to spend the rest of his life with me. "Aren't you going to get down on one knee?" I smiled.

Zayn laughed and shifted so he was kneeling in front of me. "I love you more than anything else in the whole world. When you went to America, I woke up miserable because you weren't there beside me. You're the last thing I want to see when I go to sleep and the first thing I want to see when I wake up in the morning. I can't imagine ever wanting someone who isn't you. So, Gemma Carlisle, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?" 

"Yes," I breathed. "Yes, yes, absolutely yes!"

Zayn's face absolutely lit up and his lips came crashing down on mine. "Let's go get you a ring," he said a few minutes later. 

"I don't need a ring," I told him. "I just need you."

"Even if you don't need one, you should have one. So lets go. There's a jewelry store three blocks away." He kissed my forehead and crawled out of the fort. 

I followed him squinting in the much brighter light. I hopped into the shower and thoroughly washed my hair with my new vanilla shampoo and wrapped a towel around myself when I stepped out. Zayn was carefully running gel through his hair, putting it in his signature quiff. The twins abruptly began kicking and I couldn't stop myself from laughing. "Want to feel them, sweetheart?"

"Always!" He replied, immediately dropping his comb. I took his hands and pressed them against my protruding belly. "I love," he told them. "And I'll see you in a few months."

They kicked harder and even though it actually hurt a little bit I smiled. "I think they like the sound of your voice."

"They can join the club," he laughed.

"Don't get cocky now," I teased, running my own brush through my hair as he returned to fixing his fo-hawk.

"Not cocky if it's true."

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