New Year’s Eve. 11:30 p.m.

You had technically agreed to go out.

In reality, Remy Lebeau had kidnapped you.

He’d done it with a grin, a hand already at your waist, and some vague comment about “trustin’ him for jus’ a lil’ while.” Before you could question it, he’d swept you away from the noise and crowds and taken you somewhere high and quiet, far above the chaos of the city.

You had no idea he’d planned everything.

The rooftop was already set up when you arrived. Blankets folded neatly. Champagne chilling. Snacks laid out like he’d been thinking about this for weeks. Maybe longer. The city of New York stretched out below you, all lights and motion, while up here it felt like the world had narrowed down to just the two of you.

You talked. Laughed. Shared the bottle.

At some point, music played softly from his phone, and Remy pulled you close. You slow-danced under the open sky, swaying gently under the open sky, his hand warm at your back, his forehead resting against yours.

By 11:58, you stood near the edge of the building.

You were tucked into his side, eyes on the city, watching the countdown tick closer. Remy stood beside you, but his attention was entirely on you. On the way the lights reflected in your eyes. On the way your hand fit so easily in his.

Behind his back, his free hand curled around a small black box.

His heart was racing.

Not from the height. Not from the cold.

From the certainty of what he was about to do.

12:00.

You counted down together, voices overlapping with the city below. When the clock finally struck midnight, you laughed, leaning into him as the new year arrived in a burst of light and sound.

A moment later, you turned toward him, playful and bright.

“So,” you asked, smirking, “what’s your New Year’s resolution, Cajun?”

Remy looked at you, that familiar crooked smile tugging at his mouth. His hand tightened around the box behind his back.

“Bébé,” he said softly, Cajun accent thick and warm, “dis Cajun don’t make no resolutions. Gambit ain’t got nothin’ he gotta change.”

It was a lie.

His resolution was you.

You were his best friend. His ace. The person he wanted to walk into every new year with.