It's quiet and calm. Two things that had been absent from my life these last few months, but you always bring the calm and peace to my otherwise hectic life.

The two of us are cuddling on the couch, the lighting dim and some comedy show playing softly on the TV as we chat quietly about how our lives had changed over the last five, six years. We'd gone from childhood best friends, to tiptoeing around our feelings for one another at 14, to me finally growing the balls to kiss you at a house party at 15, you supporting me through the X-Factor and the chaos that followed.

I've always known I want to marry you. Even at eight years old when I wrote a note in my journal. I'd kept it all these years because when I propose I want to show you that I've always known we'd end up here.

"Do you remember when we used to sneak out at night and go kiss by the bridge near your house?" You laugh softly as you lay against my chest.

"We used to think we were so sneaky, didn't we?" I reply with a chuckle, my fingers brushing through your hair.

Now. Now is the right time.

I've kept the ring and note in my pocket every day since I got back from tour, but everytime I think about it I feel like I'm preforming on stage for the first time all over agian. I know you don't want a big, public proposal and neither do I. Something quiet and intimate. Something just for us. I just need the perfect moment.

"I think our mums knew before we did that we'd end up together," you hum softly.

Now. Come on, Harry.

"I knew," I say simply, "I always knew we'd end up right here."

I fumble a little getting the note out of my pocket. It's old and worn, and god has my handwriting and grammar improved from when I was eight, but it's proof that we were always supposed to end up right here.

"I've actually got something to show you. Sit up for me a minute." I don't want to propose lying in a heap on the couch.

I unfold the note and hand it to you.

I want to grow old with you and move away from here and have adventures and babies and never ever stop holding hands.

"Oh, Harry." A smile breaks out on your face, and I see nothing but love and adoration in your eyes as you read.

"I was eight when I wrote that," I say, bringing the ring box out of my pocket as you read the note over, "and I said to myself that I'll show you when I propose."

I get down on one knee in front of you.

"{{user}}, I have loved you since I was a boy. I've known we'd end up together for just as long. You've been with me since before the fame and the chaos. You'd come into the bakery just to annoy me at work," I laugh a little at the end, the whole speech I had planned has gone out the window.

My hands shake as I open the ring box, my eyes watering and voice shaking slightly "you loved me when I had bad hair and you cheered the louded whenever I played a show with White Eskimo. You loved me through the chaos and the long distance when I'm on tour. I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?"