Chapter Text
Paris.
The City of Lights. One of the fashion capitals of the world. The City of Love.
And of vomiting illnesses so it seemed.
Day three of their five days in the city and Sophie had so far not seen past the lobby of the hotel. Instead she was sitting in the hotel room; listening to Benedict spend the majority of his time in the bathroom in close proximity with the toilet bowl.
She lay on the bed flicking through French television channels, pausing if something sounded interesting. Though it seemed the news was as gloomy in every country. She’d have turned it off if it didn’t drown out the groaning from the bathroom.
To be fair he had told her to go out and explore and she had tried. Sophie had gotten to the metro station on her way to Notre Dame before feeling guilty and turning back. Benedict had been asleep and she pretended she’d had a lovely walk until it rained. She supposed that was one good thing - the weather had been quite grey.
Yet in normally miserable London the sun was splitting the trees according to Kate. She and Penelope spent the previous day working outside.
Sophie didn’t even know what she’d wanted to do. He had made her go with no plan, barely telling her they were going to Paris until she threatened she’d leave him. Benedict promised he had everything planned and under control. And she believed him; putting complete trust in him. Which had now backfired.
Penelope: How is everything?
Sophie looked at the message on her phone and rolled on to her stomach to reply to it.
Sophie: Still the same. There are 35 tiles on the largest wall in this room.
Kate: Go and enjoy yourself Soph.
Penelope: She doesn’t want to leave him
Kate: I would
Sophie: I know you would. Because you’ve done it to me
Sophie remembered going to Vienna with Kate to the Christmas markets and after getting food poisoning Kate abandoned her to the room; ensuring she had enough water first of all.
Kate: You told me to Baek. Don’t act like I left you.
Penelope: But you did
Sophie: How’s baby?
She changed the topic before Kate could respond.
Penelope: Scan went well. I’ll send you the pictures.
Sophie was looking at the scan photos when the bathroom door slid open slightly.
“Sophie?” Benedict said, his voice still weak.
“You ok?” She asked, pulling her legs up to get off the bed.
“I think I’m going to shower. Could you pass me in underwear?” He asked. She nodded. He smiled and closed the door over again as she walked over to the drawers. She opened the second drawer where she had watched him put his socks and things the day they arrived. She pulled out a pair of boxers, socks and had her hand on a grey top when she heard a clatter in the drawer. She pushed the top aside and saw the box.
She shouldn’t look at it but she had to. It was tiny and dark blue. Even an idiot would be able to guess what it was. And Sophie Maria Baek was far from an idiot. She grabbed it and then glanced towards the bathroom. She could heard the shower running now. She turned the box over in her hand.
A voice in her head - sounding suspiciously like Kate - told her to peek inside. Just to confirm what it was. But another - the Penelope - was saying not to spoil it. Her fingers rubbed the velvet and she smiled. Whatever was inside it didn’t matter. She’d take it.
The shower was still on and Sophie slipped into the bathroom, placing Benedict’s clothes on the toilet seat along with the box and then she returned to the bed, picking up her book and trying hard to act nonchalant as she listen to the water shut off.
The warm water felt good as Benedict stood under the rain shower. He was feeling a little more alive he thought as he rubbed at his face. Maybe tomorrow he’d be able to salvage this nightmare city break.
It was going to be perfect. He’d been picturing and plotting for weeks. Figuring out the best things to do. What Sophie would love. Museums, galleries, a day at Disneyland Paris, a dinner cruise on the Seine. And at that perfect moment (he didn’t know which just yet) he’d pop the question. He hadn’t wanted to tell her anything, he wanted to do it all himself. He’d even been brushing up on his rather rusty French though it would never match hers.
He was already feeling better, hopefully tomorrow he’d be back to normal and they would have a day.
He shut off the shower and stepped out, grabbing a towel. As he rubbed himself dry he saw the items that Sophie had left. The box sitting at the top. He swore quietly - he’d forgotten he had put the box in his underwear drawer. It had only meant to be for that first night. He’d been hoping after that it would be on Sophie’s finger.
Had she opened it? He doubted it. He looked at the door then pulled on the top and boxer shorts. He towel dried his hair and then lifted the box. It fit hidden inside his hand and he stepped into the main bedroom. He caught sight of himself in the mirror and grimaced he looked pale. Then he saw Sophie sitting on the bed; determined not to look at him it seemed. Her eyes fixed on the book but she wasn’t reading. How did he know? Because she was holding it upside down.
She’d looked inside the box then.
“Book good?” He asked, sitting at the bottom of the bed.
“Mm hmm,” she said, still not looking up. With his empty hand he reached up and gently nudged it down to see her.
“You know it’s upside down?”
“Oh.” She looked down at the book, flushing with embarrassment.
“You found it.”
“I didn’t open it,” she replied.
“You know what it is?” Benedict asked. Sophie closed over the book.
“If I was to take a guess then yes. We’re in Paris. It would hardly take a rocket scientist.”
“No. Just an IT genius,” he said, smiling.
“Hardly a genius,” she said.
“This is not how this should happen,” Benedict said, looking at the box in his hands then at Sophie. He may as well just get it over with.
So there was Benedict Bridgerton sitting at the foot of a hotel bed in slightly damp hair and a wrinkled t-shirt, engagement ring at the ready.
“Sophie Maria Baek,” he began, “I don’t think I need to tell you how much I love you. How from the day I saw you you have consumed my thoughts.” He swallowed and Sophie noticed his face pale. “You are the most-”
“Ben.” Sophie tried to interrupt him but he shook his head.
“Intelligent, beautiful. No..” The box fell on to the bed as he bolted once more for the bathroom. Sophie heard the retching a moment later and then she reached for the ring box. She opened it. The silver band gleamed against a dark cushion. A diamond framed by two amethysts, her favourite she had once remarked.
She held her breath and as she lifted it out and slid it on to her own finger. And then she stood up.
He was hunched over the toilet and she knelt beside him.
She placed a hand gently on his back.
“Sorry,” he croaked.
She rubbed slow, soothing circles between his shoulder blades.
“For what?” she asked softly.
“For… this.”
She glanced at the ring catching the bathroom light.
“It’s memorable,” she said.
He let out a weak laugh.
“I had a speech.”
“I heard the beginning.”
“It was better than this.”
“I’m sure it was.”
The room was quiet except for the low hum of the fan and the distant rain.
“I wanted Paris,” he admitted. “Museums. The Seine. Something romantic.”
Sophie tilted her head.
“This is romantic.”
He looked at her like she had completely lost her mind.
“I proposed and then immediately vomited. I think that’s the world’s worst proposal.”
“Technically,” she corrected gently, “you didn’t finish proposing.”
He blinked.
“But I said yes anyway.”
He stared at her hand as she took hold of his.
“You—what?”
“I wasn’t waiting.”
“You put it on yourself?”
“Yes.”
“Before I even finished?”
“You weren’t going to finish.”
A pause.
“That’s fair.”
He leaned back against the bathtub, exhausted.
“You’re sure?”
“Yes. But let’s not tell everyone about this,” she laughed.
“Agreed.”
“And I’m not kissing your germs.”
“Wouldn’t expect you to.”