Epilogue

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Five Months Later

"There's no room for it," Zayn groans. "Liam, seriously, it's the ugliest, possibly oldest sofa in existence."

Liam drops his end of the couch and puts his hands on his hips. Liam's little flat looks so empty without the personal touches, most of which are housed in boxes that are taking up Zayn's living room back home. All that's left, really, is this stupid sofa. They'd donated Liam's bed and dresser, since he wasn't going to need it, and Liam didn't have much more furniture than that. Nothing more would really fit in this damn shoebox.

"Compromise," Liam says. "I'm moving into your ridiculous apartment, I should get to keep my shitty sofa."

"So you're admitting it's shitty." Zayn smirks. "Come on, Liam, it's a health hazard. I got stuck the last time I sat on it."

Liam pouts. "Zayn, please."

Zayn bites the inside of his lip and rolls his eyes. "Fine. Fine. But it's going in the guest bedroom."

Liam smiles like sunshine. "Thank you. Now pick up your end and help me with this."

"Don't see why we couldn't hire movers," he grumbles, for what feels like the fifteenth time.

And, once again for the fifteenth time, Liam says, "Because it's barely any stuff, and we're both completely capable of moving it."

Which is true, until they get to the door. The sofa doesn't fit, so they try turning it. It nearly falls on Liam's foot, Zayn gets hit in the shins, and they can't get it out of the apartment. "It's not going to fit," Zayn says loudly, struggling to keep his grip on the thing.

"I got it in here somehow," Liam says. "Try turning it a fraction to the — nope, that won't work. Huh."

"Liam," Zayn whines. "It's heavy."

"Maybe I should call Lou and ask him to come help," Liam suggests.

Zayn groans and puts down his half of the sofa. It creates a wall between him and Liam, trapping him in the hallway and Liam in the flat. "He and Harry conveniently have a date tonight," Zayn says. "I already tried to get them to come help."

"Oh." Liam's quiet for a moment. "Niall and Josh?"

"Visiting family."

"Right." Liam sighs. "Okay, one more try."

Zayn makes an annoyed sound but he lifts his end of the couch. It's not just one more try. It's six, and somehow they finally get the stupid thing into the hallway, where it nearly collapses on Zayn and kills him. Getting it down the stairs is even harder, and Zayn's a sweaty, panting mess by the time they load it into the back of the truck they'd rented to do this.

Of course, that's not the end of it. They still have to get it to Zayn's building, and it takes the help of the doorman to get it in the elevator, and then once again they struggle to get it in the door. Once the thing is finally in the guest bedroom, Zayn glares at it and heads for his sofa, where he collapses in a heap. Unlike Liam, who's busying himself with unpacking.

"Liam," Zayn calls. "Take a break. That'll still be there in an hour."

"In a minute," Liam shouts back. "I'm just putting my clothes away so they don't get wrinkled. You said I could have the last two drawers, right?"

Zayn goes to say no, he said Liam could have the middle two. And then he remembers, and his eyes widen as he jumps off the sofa. His sock clad feet slip on the hardwood, and he nearly slides into a wall in his rush to get to his room, but it's too late.

Liam's standing there, bottom drawer wide open, clutching a box in his hand. He gapes down at it, slowly lifting his gaze to Zayn's. "What's this?" he asks softly.

Zayn's stomach churns. Liam wasn't supposed to find that. It was stuffed in that drawer for a reason. He wanted to wait until the right moment. For the perfect timing. And of course he doesn't get that, because it's not hard enough, asking Liam this.

Slowly, Zayn makes his way across the room. He takes the box from Liam's hands with shaking fingers, and he takes a steadying breath before sinking to one knee. "This isn't how this was supposed to go," Zayn admits. He rubs the back of his neck. "Um. Fuck, it's stupid how I'm good with words when it doesn't matter, how I can write songs about things and how I feel and shit, but when I try to say them to you they never come out right. But. Fuck, okay. Liam, look, you're — no, that isn't—"

"Just get it out," Liam whispers. "Just say it, Zayn."

"Right." Zayn winces. "You're just — you're everything, you know? I want every minute with you. Every minute of the rest of my life with you. You've crawled your way into my heart, filling up all these empty spaces in it that I didn't realize were there. You've lit up my whole world, and I could dream of a million different lives for myself, but you'd be beside me in each one. I wasn't always sure if true love was something that really existed, but this — this couldn't be anything but that. And fuck I'm twenty-four years old, Liam. There's no way I should know what I want for the rest of my life, but I do. It's you. It's always going to be you. I can't imagine myself ever wanting anyone else. So just— Marry me, Liam Payne. Fucking marry me, okay?"

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