One Shots #VariaSquad

Marry You

'What?' she asks, sure she's heard wrong. 

He ducks out from under her arm and jumps up onto the low wall bordering the walkway, arms spread wide as he proclaims loudly, 'Alia Bhatt, we're both crazy and insane and passionate about, well, pretty much everything we do - acting, dancing, singing, rapping, performing, trying to use our influence to do some good in this completely insane world. You're the only person I know who can match me in energy, in dedication. You match me step-for-step, give me a run for my money when we're doing a scene together and, sometimes, you remind me of all the things that I let myself forget, the good things and the bad things - which, as much as I don't want to think about, are as much a part of me, an important part of me, as anything else. You, my insane, strange, emotional, wonderful friend, are one hell of an important part of my life and maybe it's the look in you eyes, maybe it's this dancing juice, who cares baby? I think I wanna marry you.' 

'Where?' she asks, too caught up in the emotions rolling off of him and the giddy oblivion that's taken them both to think straight just yet. 

'Anywhere. We're in Vegas baby, Marriage Capital of the World. We'll find a little chapel somewhere and we'll go in and get married, no on will even know,' he says like nothing could be easier. 

She looks at him for a moment, debating what to say because, even if she's got an alcohol haze clouding her brain, she knows that this is probably not something that they should be doing, that a heat of the moment decision taken after they've been drinking isn't a good idea. 'We're completely smashed VD,' she tells him, the way she giggles after the slightly slurred words confirmation of that fact. 'Might not be the best idea.' 

'Who cares if we're trashed, got a pocket full of cash we can blow,' he says, grinning at her in the way that makes her feel as though she's just downed a couple of shots of whiskey, the way that makes her feel drunk when she's sober and completely bowled over when she's as tipsy as she already is. 

'Okay,' she agrees, grinning back at him. He hops down from the ledge and picks her up, spinning her around a couple of times before he sets her on her feet and grabs her hand, running as he begins to lead the way down the street again, this time searching for a jewellery shop of some sort in the hopes of finding a ring. She laughs as she follows behind him, their hands clasped tightly, the both of them high on more than just the drinks they've consumed. 

***

They find a shop that's still open and go in, the shopkeeper totally unsurprised when Varun tells him they're looking for wedding rings; he's been in Las Vegas for more than twenty years and has seen his fair share of couples come through looking to get married in Sin City, some sober, some drunk off their asses, but all with that same look of excited anticipation and incredible happiness. He leads them over to the counters with the rings, letting them look and tell him which ones. It takes less than two minutes for Alia to spot the ones she wants - that surprises him, usually people are more picky, especially when they're drunk - and he pulls them out for the pair to look at. 'They're perfect,' the girl states, looking at them for only a minute before turning to her companion. 

'You sure?' he asks, not like he doubts her opinion, more like he just wants to double check. 

'Absolutely,' she says with a nod. 

'Okay, then we'll get them,' he tells her, like all that matters is what she wants.

***