France x Reader. Will you marry me?

"No."

"...What?"

"You heard me. No."

The moment was nothing short of perfect. Just the two of you were held close in each other's arms. Held close as you watched the beautiful sunset and all its warm colours of passionate reds, romantic pinks and comforting oranges, reflecting off the glassy surface of the lake you stood on the bank of. Someone had been sent prior, lighting candles around the area and in a heart shape that you had stood in. Of course, you still stood in it. Your boyfriend was down on one knee, holding out the velvet box of midnight blue with its ring of platinum and diamond within.

His face was a confused mess of emotions. Sadness, disappointment, surprise, confusion... But there was something else. Something you had to look much deeper for. Right into his hurt depths of his sky blue eyes and almost into his very being. 

Relief.

That was why you had said no. Because you knew there was a part of him that just wasn't ready for this. No matter how small that part was, you couldn't marry a man who didn't want you with all of his soul. Of course you were very deeply in love with Francis, as he was with you, but there was just that one tiny part of him... 

"But... But why?" His soft voice broke the silence of the evening, full of hurt and disappointment that he truly felt. For the relieved part in him was barely even fractional. It barely even existed. But it was still there.

"Because you don't want to marry me." You told him softly, gently tugging him to his feet and cupping his face in both of your hands. "I know you don't, Francis. Not truly with all of your heart and soul... I can see it in your eyes..." You fell silent for a moment, but continued before he could speak. "But that's okay." You reassured him softly.

He looked surprised. Of course he knew about that one reluctant bit of him... He was just surprised that you did too. "It... is...?" 

"Of course it's okay..." Tenderly, you brushed a lock of his long blonde hair out of his face, from where it had escaped the amethyst ribbon that held it back. "I love you, Francis... I love you with every fibre of my being. We don't need some piece of paper to tell us how much we love each other.... we don't need a fancy ceremony to share our feelings... all we need is each other... No more, no less." 

Francis' eyes filled with tears as he listened to you speak. He rest one of his hands over yours, holding your palm against his cheek as he looked at you with the softest, loving gaze you had ever seen. Closing his eyes, he didn't even try to stop the hot tears from falling down his cheeks. 

     The way you understood him was unparalleled. Even Francis didn't understand himself so well. It made no sense to him, but he loved it. He loved how you knew every tiny little thing about him - things he didn't even know himself. He feared he wasn't the same. Would he gave been able to look so deeply and tell that such a little part of you didn't want something?

Yes. He told himself with a smile. I would. 

That was it. The realisation hit; just how deeply the two of you truly understood one another. Just how deeply the love ran in your very souls. The connection... He realised: if he asked you to marry him in that moment, you would have said yes. There wasn't a doubt in his mind how much he wanted to marry you. You could see that, too. You could see it now in the way that he looked at you. But he didn't ask. 

Instead he just pulled you closer into a warm, loving and gentle kiss, flickering like the gentle flames of the candles around you. After all...

Marriage was just a piece of paper.