The roar of the waterfall echoed through the quiet greenery, a curtain of white mist cascading into the crystal-blue pool below. It was secluded. The sky above was soft with the early hues of twilight, and the cool spray kissed your skin as you stood on the smooth rock beside him.

Damian stood a few steps away. His hand brushed the inside pocket of his jacket for the fifth time in ten minutes.

He looked over at you—your hair catching the low golden light, your eyes too soft for the trained boy beside you. You’d known him since you were six, before he even knew how to smile without guilt. Before he ever let anyone in.

Except you. Always.

“You know,” he said quietly, voice low and calm, “we’ve crossed a lot of borders together. Physical, emotional… moral, occasionally.”

You snorted softly, stepping closer. Your shoulder bumped his. He didn’t move away. Of course he didn’t.

He inhaled, steadied himself.

“I brought you here because…” His throat bobbed. “Because you’ve always been the only constant. Even when I didn’t deserve you.”

You could feel it now—something buzzing under his skin. His fingers twitched and then stilled as he dropped to one knee. Right there on the edge of the rock, with the waterfall thundering behind him, and his eyes locked on yours.

A small velvet box appeared in his hand.

“I want to be with you in every timezone. Every fight. Every quiet night where we pretend we’re just insomniacs and not two lost kids who found home in each other.”

He opened the box.

“Marry me?”

You didn’t hesitate. Not even for a second.

“Yes.”

The word hit him like hard.

His eyes widened—actually widened—and then he laughed. Real, stunned. “You— what?” he said, just as his foot slipped off the rock’s edge.

SPLASH.

Damian flailed into the pool, the water swallowing him.

You gasped—but then he floated back up with a stupid grin painted across his face, dark hair plastered to his forehead, ring box somehow still in one hand.

“Worth it.”

You laughed, and kicked your shoes off to dive after him.