I Might Be Holding Your Hand, but I'm Holding It Loose.

"Yes!" she squealed, jumping up to wrap her legs around his waist, laughing with pure glee. He laughed too and held her close, smiling into her shirt, rubbing her back. He breathed out a sigh of relief - he could now relax, no longer worry about his partner's possible decline of his hand, as she'd happily accepted.
She held his face in his hands, kissing his lips forcefully but lovingly. "I love you," she whispered, slowly sliding her legs down his toned body, shaking with excitement. He carefully pulled the amethyst ring out of the velvet box and enveloped her finger with it, kissing her hand. His lips on her skin sent her chills, the romance never died, the butterflies stayed in her stomach no matter what.
"Yes." she whispered again, as a way to confirm it to herself, and to him. He laughed and pulled her back into a tight hug, his heartbeat in his head.
"Thank you," he breathed. "That's all I can say, thank you."

He wondered what would have happened had she said no. That would've been difficult, and uncomfortably awkward, and just, no. He didn't need to think about it now, because it wasn't an option, but it still toyed with his mind, waiting for her to laugh and mock him for his naivety and ability to rely on someone so easily. It was a good trait in some instances, but more often than not, it wasn't, and his heart had been smashed so many times even super glue wouldn't fix the pieces that were threatening to fall apart. It was covered in bandages, and now, it had time to heal.
"Do you ever wonder," he began. "Did you ever wonder what would happen if you remained lonely for the rest of your life? I know this isn't exactly the best time to ask this, but I-"
She cut him off by his lips, pecking them once, softly. "Brendon." Peck. "You're so cute. You don't need to worry, okay? You always worry," she stated, letting go of him and lacing her fingers with his, rubbing her thumb in small circles and leaning in to him. She was only a dainty thing, which was one of the things he loved about her, because he could swing her around and take her under his wing.
"I'm sorry," he half-smiled, kissing her forehead and walking with her, back in the direction of their apartment.
"And don't apologize. Man, Urie, you're so soft," she giggled and he shrugged, smiling, because he knew it was true. He would do anything for his other half, always had, always will.
"Hey, soon-to-be-Urie, I know. It's all your fault."
"Oh God," she groaned. "I'm sorry honey, I can't take your name,"
"What?" he asked quietly, mouse-like, face losing all semblance of both color and hope.
"Urie. It's not the most attractive surname is it?"
"Oh." he laughed. "I thought you were taking back the acceptance entirely!"
"No way, I'm too fond if this ring now to let it go," she smiled.

They were soon back at their apartment, the door being swung open in an over-exaggerated manor, him taking in all the familiar scents, never quite smelling as good as it did at this moment in time. He closed his eyes and took it all in as his fiance wrapped her arms around his waist from behind, her gentle fingers stroking lines up and down the creamy space in-between his navel and the waistband of his jeans. His hairs stood on end, and he wanted her to slip her fingers that little bit lower, but she didn't, which was to be expected. She simply held him in a backward embrace, wallowing in pure bliss.
"When do you go on tour again?" she asked, and he pushed her hands away from him, re-holding one of them and taking her in to the living room, sitting her down. She wouldn't gen angry, she wasn't the type to, but he wished she was because it would make this a hell of a lot easier than when she looked disappointed and nodded, humming quietly.
"Two weeks. But it's not really a tour, okay? We're flying back out to Vegas to record there at Palm Springs. Three weeks is all, three weeks,"
"A lot can happen in three weeks," she mumbled, resting her head on his shoulder, slowly morphing in to a more comfortable position, her head in his lap as he palmed her hair.
"That doesn't mean I won't miss you." he said truthfully, arching his back to kiss her button nose.
"I know," she sighed. "When you come back, we'll have a wedding to prepare, so I have that to look forward to," she smiled as she let her eyelids smother her blue orbs.
"Of course," he nodded. "And I'll get you something from Vegas. Maybe a stripper for your hen party," he joked.
"Maybe," she yawned, drifting in and out of sleep. It had been a tiring day, and she was easily exhausted, where as Brendon had the energy that meant he could run for hours and hours. A large caffeine intake didn't help, either.
"You can sleep, if you want," he smiled, stroking her arm. "I won't stop you."
"Alright," she whispered, sitting up and kissing his cheek. "Are you going to come to bed too?"
He reached for his note book and held it up; she nodded knowingly. His notebook was filled with lyrics and music, and he always brain stormed at this time of night.
"I'll see you in the morning, then," she smiled, giving him a quick peck and walking in the direction of their bedroom. Just before she shut the door behind her, she turned around. "I love you Brendon."
He grinned and turned to face her. "I love you too, Rebecca."