As soon as the wizard popped into existence in the tiny London flat, he dug his hand into the pocket of his robes for the small, wooden box. Still there. He'd been double-checking for it every few minutes since he'd bought it over a month ago.
He took a moment to collect his bearings; the uncomfortable squeezing sensation of apparition, combined with a lack of sleep, left him somewhat disoriented. His eyes adjusted to the dark flat, sparsely decorated as it was scarcely lived in. His career as a magizoologist meant he often slept in a tent on open plains or deep in the forest, close by the creatures he looked after.
"That you, Barnaby?" he heard Liz call.
"Yeah," he called back. "I'm home, just for a bit."
The sound of a door swinging open and footsteps muffled by the shag carpet. Liz entered the room, lighting the lamps with a flick of her wand.
"You're a mess," she said. "I'd say Africa gave you a nice tan, but it appears as though it's burnt you to a crisp. Good trip?"
"Yes, but tiring. And I'm starving."
"Go lay down," she said, stepping into their kitchen, which was really just a small stove and a fridge. "I can make some toast or something if you like."
"No thanks," he said, picking up his weary feet with difficulty and heading for his bedroom. "I just came to drop off my things."
"You're not going to Sarah's tonight?" she called as he laid his bag down on the foot of his bed, fighting it's call to climb in and wrap up under the covers.
"I am," he said. He walked back to the kitchen. "I haven't seen her in nearly a month."
She implored him with her large eyes, magnified by her round glasses. "But you're not asking her tonight, surely?"
He pulled the box out of his pocket and held it up with a small shake.
Liz scrunched up her face. "Are you sure?"
"Course I am," he said, indignant. He'd never been the brightest wizard, but this was one decision on which he was absolutely certain.
"It's just...you look like you haven't slept or showered in days, and you smell like erumpent butt." She gave him a nudge, pushing him toward the bathroom. "At least shower before you see her. I'm no expert on romance, but I'm pretty sure it works better when you can come close enough to hug without one of you gagging."
"Alright, alright," he said, letting her steer him into the hall.
Half an hour later, he was walking the few blocks between his and Sarah's flats, gazing up at the starless night and missing the beautiful lights that filled the sky in Kenya. He'd grown used to living in London; it was good to be close to the ministry for both his and Sarah's work, but he hoped that one day he could procure a little house in the country, where he could see the stars, raise a few creatures, and play outside with a wife and children.
He felt the nerves unsettle his body as he knocked on her door. His hand flung to his pocket again. Still there.
The door had barely opened before she flung herself into his arms. Suppressing a wince from the pressure on his sunburn, he held her aloft, swaying as he took in her familiar warmth and scent. He buried his face into her long, blonde hair before setting her down. Their arms still wrapped around each other, he gazed into the face of the most beautiful woman on earth, still as breath-taking as he found her since he was thirteen.
"I missed you," said Sarah, looking up at him with blue eyes that held the love he'd never known until he met her.
"Missed you, too."
She stepped aside to let him in. His legs suddenly felt gelatinous and he felt his palms starting to sweat. How could he have spent a month dealing with giant creatures that exploded when frightened with no problems, but now he was terrified to ask a question? He took a deep breath before stepping inside.