Page 331 of Untouchable

Harp had prepared for the worst. He'd even run scenarios through his mind in which Parker's dad tried to physically fight him. But instead they were... Well not happy, of course.

But they also weren't surprised. They looked like a pair of people who were resigned to the fate of having Morton Harper, of all people, as their son in law.

"We know you love him very much," Parker's dad had said in a flat voice that sounded rehearsed but not unkind.

"You'll look after him," his mom stated—not so much a request as it seemed to be a flat command. "Have you thought about flowers yet? Of course the wedding will be here in Denver..."

Harp supposes that's as close as she'll ever get to a blessing from them.

His heart beats hard in the here and now, thinking about what's ahead of them. He's finally going to do it today.

* * *

Parker wakes slowly,drifting out of sleep as the sky outside lightens. For a while, he simply lays there, completely still, listening to the sound of Harp’s breathing. He can tell Harp is awake, and he loves this little moment, two souls existing side-by-side, completely at peace.

Parker rolls onto his side, stretching and smiling as he opens his eyes.

“Morning,” he says sleepily.

Harp takes a deep breath. "Morning," he says, lacing his fingers through Parker's. "Are you ready to get up?"

Parker yawns and scoots closer to Harp in bed. "Hm. What if I say I want to stay in bed until noon and order room service?"

Harp frowns. "Then I... would say... don't forget we're going to the Eiffel Tower this morning, finally."

Parker gives him another grin. "And then I would say, didn't you say I'm supposed to do whatever I want all vacation?"

Harp sighs. "You can do whatever you want this afternoon. I promise."

“Good,” Parker says slyly, snaking his free hand up Harp’s thigh. “I intend to.”

Parker manages to not feel his boyfriend up, though—always a struggle—and instead, he sits up, stretching again.

“God, this bed is amazing,” he said. “I mean, so is our bed at home, but, this is like… extra deluxe amazing, you know?” Parker smiles at Harp. It still feels good to say our bed, or to refer to the cabin as home. It was home, and Parker felt strangely like it was where he’d lived his whole life, while also hardly being able to believe it was true.

Parker leaps out of bed then, wrapping a sheet around him and throwing open the doors to the little balcony attached to their room. The air is crisp and a little cool, and Parker leans out over the railing—as far as he dares, given how high up they are. He smiles and waves to the Eiffel Tower off in the distance.

“I’m coming for you,” he yells, and far below them, a person on a bicycle on the sidewalk looks up.

* * *

Somethingabout the fact that Parker is awake twists anxiety through Harp's belly.

Suddenly, this is very real.

What if it's too soon? What if it's too cliche? What if—

Harp snaps a picture of Parker, backlit, with the tower in the hazy sunshine in the distance.

It's hard not to dive into his phone to quadruple check every last detail.

Is he sure that he told everyone to be there when it opened at 9:30?

Is he sure he told them today?

Is he sure that today is even the day that he thinks it is?

What if he'd lost track of time, and his phone hadn't adjusted, and today is really the day beforeand—

---