I'll keep breaking my own heart, finding ways to make it out
I'm still not what I wanna be, what more do you want from me?
I'm still not what I wanna be, what more do you want from me?
Her grip is tight and nearly desperate as she takes his hand, and he squeezes back firmly without being too rough to assure her without words that he isn’t leaving. No matter what she chooses, when they leave this table he will still be hers. All that matters right now is figuring out in what way.
Though his heart is in his throat, in some ways he isn’t fully surprised by what she says. By the fact she wants this as much as he does. For all his self-doubt, Harper isn’t blind to the force of her returned affections, even if he sometimes convinced himself they were of a different breed than monogamous love. “For as long as we want each other,” he corrects softly. “Every day we would choose each other. And if either of us changes our minds, we have the power to end things. But I never want one of us to hold more power here than the other.” Outside of this room, where she is Queen and he her left hand? Obviously things would be different. But he can hear the old hurt and history in the words she says, in the way it has always been her being left behind, and he doesn’t want her to watch his back expecting the same whenever she sees it.
The sight of the ring makes his stomach twist, if only because of the connotation of it, but he remains quiet while she explains it. Even without their relationship in mind, there are endless advantages to her being able to feel him the way other Attuned to, like with their Stargate. But that’s not why she’s asking and he knows it. That she had it on her, had prepared for this before she saw him at the table, it helps convince him that she means every word. Harper’s other hand slowly reaches for the ring. “Will you be my partner, then?” he asks quietly, sincerely, as his eyes seek hers and he squeezes their joined hands gently. “Be mine, as I will be yours?” Perhaps not wife, because he would never rob her of a wedding by using the term too soon, but no other term fit properly.
Though his heart is in his throat, in some ways he isn’t fully surprised by what she says. By the fact she wants this as much as he does. For all his self-doubt, Harper isn’t blind to the force of her returned affections, even if he sometimes convinced himself they were of a different breed than monogamous love. “For as long as we want each other,” he corrects softly. “Every day we would choose each other. And if either of us changes our minds, we have the power to end things. But I never want one of us to hold more power here than the other.” Outside of this room, where she is Queen and he her left hand? Obviously things would be different. But he can hear the old hurt and history in the words she says, in the way it has always been her being left behind, and he doesn’t want her to watch his back expecting the same whenever she sees it.
The sight of the ring makes his stomach twist, if only because of the connotation of it, but he remains quiet while she explains it. Even without their relationship in mind, there are endless advantages to her being able to feel him the way other Attuned to, like with their Stargate. But that’s not why she’s asking and he knows it. That she had it on her, had prepared for this before she saw him at the table, it helps convince him that she means every word. Harper’s other hand slowly reaches for the ring. “Will you be my partner, then?” he asks quietly, sincerely, as his eyes seek hers and he squeezes their joined hands gently. “Be mine, as I will be yours?” Perhaps not wife, because he would never rob her of a wedding by using the term too soon, but no other term fit properly.
