Page 336 of Untouchable

This isn't a do-over of something that he failed at the first time. This is it. This is the thing that you spend a lifetime waiting for.

As they round the corner for the last few steps, Harp spots who he's looking for: a woman just a few years younger than himself with a face that's different from how he remembered. Her makeup is done, he realizes. She'd never been wearing makeup when they Skyped in preparation for this day, and she looks abruptly beautiful.

He hasn't seen her in person in years, and he knows there's no chance of Parker recognizing her. That's why she's been designated the lookout.

Harp's oldest sister seems shocked for a half-second when she finally spots them. Maybe she's surprised by how young Harp's hopefully soon-to-be fiancé is, or maybe just like Harp, she's surprised by what her sibling looks like in real life after such a long absence.

It hadn't been easy reaching out to his family, but it had been something Harp had to do before he made this decision. Edith had been the only person to respond, but he'd been shocked when she was actually nice to him. Growing older and gaining experience had tempered her resentments—and just like Harp, she was ready to make amends. Maybe there's still hope for the rest of his family—but everyone but Edith and Gil are far from Harp's mind in this moment.

His laser focus is concentrated on Parker—on making this one of the best moments of his life because he deserves that.

Harp nods at Edith and a smile flicks over her face. She turns on her heel and disappears.

"Come on," Harp says when they reach the top. "I know the perfect spot."

* * *

“Sounds good,”Parker says, letting Harp lead him. He shivers with excitement. His fear of heights hasn’t gone away, of course, but it’s quickly overpowered by the sheer wonder of the moment, of being so high, of seeing so far, of being so fucking lucky that this is his life. This is his life.

“Harp, wait—” Parker says, grabbing Harp’s hand and stopping him. Harp turns to face Parker, looking concerned. Parker takes a deep breath. He taps his chest as he opens his mouth to speak, as if that will somehow help him articulate the dizzying fizz of feeling currently swirling around in his chest. “I—I just wanted to say that—that I’m—I’m having a really good trip.”

Parker groans internally. He’d wanted the verbal equivalent of someone sketching I LOVE YOU against the clouds with a skywriter, but instead he’d gotten… I’m having a really good trip.

He shakes his head and tries again.

“What I mean is—I just—this is like—everything is so perfect,” Parker says. He can’t quite meet Harp’s gaze, looking instead somewhere above his left eyebrow. “Like, all I can think about when we’re walking around and doing all this stuff is, whoa, I can’t believe I’m literally having the best vacation of my entire life right now, you know? Like—it’s just—great.”

Parker offers up a weak smile, hoping that Harp will understand that what he’s saying is so, so, so inadequate in conveying how he feels.

* * *

Calm descendsover Harp as he listens to Parker's words, as Harp watches his face.

This is right. It's so right. There's no room in him for doubts. Parker loves him. There's no one on earth who has ever loved Harp more or better.

Parker hasn't noticed yet that two of the "tourists" on the platform have been taking pictures of them since they stepped onto the platform. Everything is going right. A group of people have slowly broken off from the crowd and edged towards where they know Harp is guiding Parker.

Harp pulls Parker into a kiss. "I do know," he says when they part. "I'm having the time of my life, too. Everything is perfect when we're together."

Parker lets out a little "aw" before Harp drags him towards their final destination.

"I need you to do your selfie magic," Harp says, handing his phone over to Parker. "C'mon."

* * *

Parker laughsand rolls his eyes.

“Okay, but I’ll state for the record—again—that you, as the person with longer arms, are technically the more qualified selfie-taker.”

“We both know I’m miserable at taking selfies,” Harp says. “Remember that one I took of us when we went to the Tetons? I looked like I’d been stung by a swarm of bees.”

“That was a really bad one,” Parker says with a laugh as they arrange themselves in their usual formation. “I looked kind of like I had the stomach flu.”

“Oh, hush,” Harp says. “You couldn’t look bad if you tried. Hell, I bet you’d make having the stomach flu look glamorous somehow.”

Parker rolls his eyes but he’s smiling broadly.

“Stop that,” he says. “Okay here we go—no, Harp, come on, you have to look right there, okay, yeah, there we go. One of these days you’ll learn.”

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