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 Posted: Sat Dec 22, 2012 12:34 pm
Chris’s smile faded into a tiny grimace when Paris pointed out how many people were still around them. He took hold of Paris’s hand and pulled him along behind him, searching for the hallway he’d gone down in order to get back there in the first place. He knew that around the corner was a couch used by students on their breaks or during the times left waiting for their next class. Chris didn’t want to take Paris too far away since he still needed to change, but the privacy would be nice for what he had planned for Paris next.
And considering what they’d just decided on, he really didn’t want to part ways so soon.
“Is this okay?” he asked as they approached the couch, taking a seat and gently pulling Paris down to sit with him. “Sorry...” he said meekly, feeling guilty for putting Paris in the spotlight like that, although his smile was quick to return. He was much too happy to stay annoyed for very long — or even feel too regretful, since Paris had responded to his proposal so well. He hadn’t even freaked out as much as Chris had imagined he might.
Sitting down also seemed to jog his memory about something else, and he shifted on the worn out cushions so he could push his hand into his pants pocket, pulling out a tiny box as he did so.
“Don’t freak out, okay?” he asked, assuming it would come now if it came at all. There was sympathy in his voice, and some slightly amusement also. “I know you have a promise ring already but... well... I wanted to get you an official ring... I … I went back to that jewelry store. I didn’t get it there, but I wanted the information on your promise ring, and then I... went to Boston... in October... and I talked to a designer and had this made for you...”
He wasn’t really sure how people did this, other than what he’d seen in movies, but then they usually presented the ring when they made the proposal. He’d chosen not to do that for a few reasons, the most important being that he didn’t want other people knowing how much it was worth. Instead of pushing the box into Paris’s hands, Chris fumbled with the lid and finally managed to get it open, presenting his fiance a ring the likes of which Paris had probably never seen.
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Posted: Sat Dec 22, 2012 7:00 pm
Still reeling from the shock of it and bubbling with a sort of excitement he’d never felt before, Paris followed Chris out and down the hall, leaving their audience behind them to giggle and gossip or whatever else it was they planned on doing as soon as they were out of earshot. A few congratulated him on his way out, some patted his shoulder or rubbed at his back, and though Paris showed them a grateful smile he was pleased all the same to be away from them.
He felt like he could breathe again. He inhaled deeply, held it in his lungs and thought ‘I’m engaged,’ before he released it and felt the tension ease out and a tentative calm descend.
At least for the time being.
The couch was sturdy beneath him when he sat down beside Chris, like an anchor or pillar keeping him upright and stuck firmly in reality. He settled close so their thighs touched and their feet brushed together, hooking a heel along Chris’s ankle as he leaned into Chris’s side.
Then he was holding his breath for an entirely different reason. No sooner had it fled than shock was quick to return, one hand rising to clutch at his face while the other held the roses in his lap.
“Chris...” he said, not sure if he wanted to shout or cry or both. He sat there gaping, staring from Chris to the ring, then back at Chris, and then back to the ring again, not sure who or what he should be looking at more. Again, words seemed to fail him, his thoughts zipping through his head a mile a minute, so fast and so convoluted he could hardly decipher any of it.
“I... I don’t know what to say,” he told him. His voice sounded shaky again. He was surprised he’d managed to go this long without crying.
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Posted: Sat Dec 22, 2012 7:17 pm
”Try it on,” Chris suggested, grinning at his fiancé’s speechlessness. Without even waiting for a response, he carefully pulled the ring from its cushion in the box and held out his free hand for Paris to offer his left, the box left sitting on his leg.
Once he had possession of Paris’s hand, glad he could see his face now, he gently slid the ring in place, letting out a small exhale of relief when it slid comfortably over his knuckle and didn’t seem to be loose. That was one more worry out of the way.
Now he had to hope that Paris wouldn’t be upset with him for the process in which he’d obtained it.
“See... I needed to go to Boston to ask Nana if she’d let me into my trust fund a bit early. She has one set up for all her grandkids, but we’re not allowed access to them until we’re thirty,” he explained, hoping that going step by step would help keep Paris from freaking out more as he continued.
“Nana agreed, but only if she could help... so she took me to meet with her favorite designer in the city and... we looked at a collection of diamonds he had. Mom has my great-grandmother’s ring... and it’s a yellow diamond, so Nana suggested that, but I knew when I saw this one... it was just... it was you, Paris.”
It was similar to the ring he had already, in that it had pink and white gems, but he’d clearly gone above and beyond what they’d picked out together last time. He would never, and had never, flaunted how well off his family was, partly because he didn’t think it was anything to gloat about but also because he was a little afraid of being judged for it before some people even took the chance to get to know him... but he wanted Paris to have something extra special, something to show how much he meant to him — as much as any material item could possibly show something that was practically priceless.
“It’s a pink diamond...” he said slowly, wondering if Paris remembered what the lady had told them at the jewelry store when they’d gotten his promise ring. It was an emerald cut diamond, the fashion Paris had shown preference to, but it was quite a bit larger than the ring he wore now — well, he wasn’t wearing it now since he’d just been on stage and Paris didn’t wear any more jewelry than he was required to in costuming when he was on stage, but still.
“Fancy Pink is the color, so it’s lighter, not that vivid dark color you see with some of them. I thought you’d like this color better. It’s four carats...” he continued. “I figured it’s, like... a good investment piece, too. Not that I’d expect it to be sold... or I hope it wouldn’t, but when pink diamonds aren’t being mined anymore, it’s value will go up by, well... a lot.”
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Posted: Sat Dec 22, 2012 7:26 pm
“I... but...”
That explained why Chris had gone to visit his grandparents so suddenly back in October. Paris could pinpoint the exact weekend because it had been the first time Chris had missed one of his performances. He’d been upset, knowing Chris wouldn’t be in the audience, knowing he wouldn’t get to see Chris's smiling face once it was over, knowing there wouldn’t be any roses or notes like there’d always been before.
Paris stared at the ring, breathless. He couldn’t pull his eyes away, mesmerized by the sight of it and by the sound of Chris’s voice. And when Chris told him what it was, Paris’s memories easily took him back to that morning in the jewelry store. His heart gave another lurch and nearly plummeted right out of his chest, as a swooping sensation traveled low into his gut, rising up again and escaping his throat in a quiet gasp.
“But... but they’re really expensive,” he said weakly, disbelievingly.
He was glad he was sitting down. He doubted he would have been able to remain upright for long if he hadn’t been. He already felt a bit lightheaded, and his hand trembled beneath the weight of the diamond and the knowledge of how much it must be worth.
A pink diamond. What was it the sales lady had said about them? ‘A high quality pink diamond can price at over a hundred-thousand dollars per carat.’
And this one was four—and knowing Chris, it wasn’t some crap quality diamond either.
“Oh my God...” he nearly moaned. “Oh my God, Chris, I... I don’t... understand. How can you afford this?”
That answer was obvious but he felt the question needed to be asked anyway. Chris had said there was a trust fund involved, and though Paris had only somewhat of an idea as to how well-off Chris’s grandparents were—seeing their house had clued him in whether or not he knew the exact amount they had to their name—he couldn’t fathom spending so much money, or having the means to spend so much money, on a single object, and such a small one at that.
Well, it wasn’t small as rings go, but comparatively speaking.
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Posted: Sat Dec 22, 2012 7:33 pm
Chris leaned in then to kiss him, wanting to distract him a bit from all his assumptions about the cost, which Chris hoped was a guess on the lower end of the spectrum.
“My family has been living rather modestly, all things considered,” he mumbled. He didn’t sound ashamed, exactly, though he was clearly self-conscious. “I guess this is kind of a low blow to wait until you said ‘yes’ to explain, but... you’re going to have to know eventually,” he mumbled, still holding onto Paris’s hand, running his fingers lightly over his smooth, pale skin.
“The band is platinum... and there’s twenty-eight smaller white diamonds in the halo around it, and then seven more going down each side of the band,” he pointed out, shifting awkwardly now that they were on a topic he wasn’t too comfortable discussing. It was easier to talk about something else — anything else. He was allowed to be modest about things like this if he wanted to be, right...?
“It’s insured, so don’t worry about wearing it... Actually, I think Nana got your left hand insured, too... That was a joke,” he added after a pause, eyeing Paris with a wary gaze. “Are you going to be okay...? I mean... if it’s too much... you don’t have to wear it... I just...”
He lifted a hand to scratch at the back of his head in sudden frustration, finding this explanation to be a little more difficult than proposing had been, for some reason. Well... he’d known what he’d wanted when he’d proposed... Making excuses as to why he’d gone all out on a ring that Paris looked like he was going to faint just looking at...? That was a little more involved.
“Look, you know I’m not very good with saying how I feel sometimes... I just... Since I can’t really explain how much I love you, I wanted to give you something special, something worth-- … uh, no, that’s not what I meant... I don’t think this is worth as much as you, I just... I wanted to try and let you know that I’m serious. I love you, and I never want you to forget that.”
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Posted: Sat Dec 22, 2012 7:38 pm
He didn’t need a ring.
Paris didn’t need a lot of things, really. At least not when it came to material items. Affection, maybe, he needed more than he liked to admit. Love, too. Support, comfort, all those things he got from Chris that he might not have adequately received from other people in his life. But a ring, especially one of this caliber, was unnecessary. He didn’t require any sort of proof of Chris’s feelings for him; he could see that much simply by looking into Chris’s eyes.
Maybe it was nice to have a symbol of their relationship, but even that he could do without if he had to. Despite Paris’s attitude, his snobby demeanor, the manner with which he sometimes looked down his nose at people, how he expected perhaps a little too much, he was capable of recognizing needs and wants.
And this wasn’t a need.
But it was very much a want.
Hesitant he might have been when he’d first begun to wear his promise ring on a daily basis, but now that he’d gotten used to it being there, now that he’d become accustomed to the questions it pulled from people, now that he’d been able to discuss what it meant and think about what it might lead to, he had to admit it was a nice piece to have. He adored it—what it meant to the both of them, the way it looked on his finger, how it caused everyone else in their lives to view them. Somehow something so small made everything between them seem even more serious that it had before, whether it was truly necessary or not.
This new ring was like that, too, symbolic of another step and a new layer to their relationship.
“It’s just...” Paris said, trying to find some way to explain himself. “I didn’t... I mean, I had no idea you were this... that there was this much money involved, and I... Maybe I was... a little naive. I don’t know how to deal with it. I can’t even wrap my head around it.”
It was overwhelming—the engagement, the ring, the money. Everything.
“What if I break it?” he asked weakly, finally tearing his eyes away from the ring to look back up at Chris, utterly torn. “It’s so perfect and beautiful... and just... so much money.” More than his dad’s house... more than his college education would end up costing... “I don’t want to ruin it. You didn’t... you didn’t have to do this. I should have. I mean, I could have done it for you... after everything... you’ve always done so much for me...”
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Posted: Sat Dec 22, 2012 7:41 pm
He figured Paris would be thrown off by the financial aspect of it. For Chris, it wasn’t that big of a deal, but then again... he was used to getting whatever he wanted, used to being able to go out and drop money left and right whenever he might want or need something. He would readily admit that he had it easy in that respect. He was spoiled. He was used to these sort of luxuries, having these sort of numbers rolling around in his head. Paris, on the other hand was surprisingly modest when it came to using money now that it was more readily available to him, and would need some time to cope.
“You’re not going to break it,” he said softly, amusement clear in his voice. “You’re not going to ruin it. And I know I didn’t have to do this... but I wanted to. I wanted to be able to give you something that you can have with you. Like, I know you have a promise ring, but...”
How was he supposed to explain this? How could he make Paris see that he’d done this not because he had the money to be able to do it, but that he’d wanted something that would last forever... a symbol of who they were as a couple. A strange couple they may seem to some, but Chris loved Paris more than he ever thought possible. He wanted to spoil him and shower him with affection, and... this was the one quasi-romantic way he knew how.
Otherwise, he didn’t think he was very romantic at all. Most days he didn’t mind it. That was who he was. Romance had never really been a very important part of his life before. Other than Skye, there hadn’t really been anyone he’d felt the need to offer romance to before Paris had come along, but Paris claimed (often loudly) to be so totally unromantic that it was hard to come up with things even when he tried. Sometimes that bothered Chris, when he wanted to do something special for Paris but didn’t know how.
This was one of the only ways he really knew.
“You... should probably get changed,” he pointed out, seeing as Paris was still in his ballet costume. As much as he was tempted to suggest throwing some more money around and just buying the costume so they wouldn’t be hindered in their together-ness, he didn’t think Paris would appreciate it... and Chris himself didn’t want to get too comfortable with doing whatever he could, just because he had a wealthy grandmother who favored him.
“I love you,” he breathed, leaning closer to be able to steal a kiss. He didn’t let it last long since they still needed to go about their business before spending more time together, but he didn’t think one little kiss would hurt.
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Posted: Sat Dec 22, 2012 7:43 pm
Paris had no more words.
He could hardly even think. Everything about this situation was stunning, eye-opening, breathtaking, left him struggling to keep up when everything else about it seemed to be happening so fast, leaving him shell-shocked. One second he was returning backstage after a charity performance of The Nutcracker and the very next moment, when he thought everything was normal, he was being proposed to completely out of the blue, or so it had seemed to him then, after he’d gone through so much trouble convincing himself that he was insane for expecting it, that he was reading too far into everything again—a habit he was trying to correct.
He didn’t understand how Chris could be so nonchalant about it all, how he could just move on from the topic and try to bring Paris’s attention back to the fact that he was still in his costume and needed to change, when Paris was having a difficult enough time processing everything in one go.
It was so much to take in. Too much. He didn’t know how to cope with it. He didn’t know how to break his attention away from it without adequately coming to terms with it first.
Paris nodded, a little slow, a little numb, and met Chris for another kiss, while his hand still trembled—resting against Chris’s cheek, the ring heavy and cold on his finger—and his heart picked up again.
This, at least, he could do. This he understood, because it was one of the only things—like ballet—that had ever really made sense in his life. Maybe for a while he’d questioned it, agonized over it, found it difficult to keep going when Chris hadn’t seemed as invested as he was, but now, like this, with so much behind them and just as much ahead of them, he could feel confident in it, content. He could be happy.
“I love you, too.”
There was still much to overcome, so much to learn and understand, so many hurdles that might come in the way to disrupt the peace they’d found together, but Paris thought he was ready for it—as ready for it as he was ever likely to be. Maybe there’d be some surprises along the way. Maybe it wouldn’t even be easy; maybe it’d be downright hard, and there’d be anger and frustration and tears and pain, but when there was this much happiness, this much joy, and this much love, wouldn’t it be worth it all in the end?
It didn’t have to be perfect.
But they could be.
Together.
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