Work Text:
The butterflies start when Daisy turns five. Every piece of paper she can get her small hands on is covered in sketches of butterflies in different shapes and colors. Eggsy fawns over the drawings, endlessly complimenting the girl’s talent and creativity. Michelle is proud of her girl for her talent at such a young age and wonders where she's acquired such a knowledge of butterflies. Harry, well, Harry is ecstatic to see his little flower taking such an interest in the different specimens. Seeing the colorful (albeit crude) drawings of the multitude of butterflies that adorn the walls of his home only serves to make him love the little girl even more.
One day, Harry brings out the art supplies while watching Daisy and immediately she sets to work. In the span of a few minutes, papers, pencils, crayons, and markers are strewn about Harry’s dining room table and Daisy in concentrating on sketching the outline of what looks to be a large butterfly. Harry takes his own piece of paper and gets to work as well.
“I wanna be a… uh… a leprechaun!” Daisy manages after some time, looking up at Harry with a smile that is all too similar to Eggsy’s for Harry’s liking. Nonetheless, he smiles back down at her - a bright, open smile - and continues sketching a common blue butterfly on the page.
“I think you mean lepidopterist, my dear,” he corrects quietly. Daisy makes a dismissive noise and continues coloring in her own drawing with a purple crayon.
Harry doesn't think he's ever been prouder.
Another period of silence and hard work goes by before Daisy speaks again.
“Do you love Eggs’?” she asks quietly, her face contorted in the expression of a curious toddler.
“Very much,” Harry answers without looking up from his paper. Daisy hums quietly.
“As much as I love him?”
Harry smiles. “Even more.”
Daisy gasps. “Not possible!”
“I assure you, my dear, it certainly is.” Harry sets his pencil down and stands up, pulling Daisy into his arms and setting her on his hip. “How would you like a sandwich?”
Daisy nods excitedly and Harry begins his journey to the kitchen.
---
When Eggsy returns to the house, he finds Harry laying on the sofa with Daisy sprawled across his chest, the telly silently playing a cartoon. He walks past them and into the dining room, only to find the mess of arts and crafts left by Harry and Daisy. Eggsy picks up Harry’s drawing and traces the lines with his index fingers, smiling to himself. He looks down at Daisy’s and his smile widens.
Eggsy makes his way back into the sitting room and leans over the back of the sofa, smiling down at Harry.
“Oi, you awake?” he asks quietly. Harry’s eyes slowly open and he smiles up at Eggsy, nodding.
“What time is it?” Harry whispers.
“‘Bout nine. I’ll call Mum an’ see if she wants us to keep this one-” Eggsy pokes Daisy’s back with a smile- “for the night.”
Daisy harrumphs and slowly rouses, her grumpy expression melting away when she looks up at Harry’s face. When she sits up on Harry’s chest and spots Eggsy, she breaks out into a full-on grin.
“Hiya, Flower,” Eggsy greets, pulling her to his chest. Daisy giggles and buries her face in Eggsy’s neck. As Harry watches them from the sofa, his chest seems to grow even warmer than it had been with Daisy laying on it.
---
They put Daisy to sleep upstairs and end up lying together on the sofa. Eggsy lays between Harry’s legs, his cheek lying against Harry’s stomach as Harry runs a hand through his hair. It’s utter perfection and Harry knows that this is his chance.
“Marry me,” he says, startling Eggsy out of his tired daze. The younger man springs up, straddling Harry and giving him a severe look.
“Excuse me?” he gapes.
“Marry me,” Harry repeats, smiling at his lover. Eggsy blinks.
“Marry you? Fuckin’- Yes!” Eggsy dives down and presses his lips against Harry’s. Harry responds immediately and they kiss lazily, hands roaming, until they have to separate to take a breath.
“I have a ring,” Harry says. “It’s upstairs. I don’t exactly want to get up right now, though.” Eggsy laughs and pecks Harry’s lips again. He slowly returns to his lying position, propping himself on his elbow to properly look at Harry.
A big, goofy grin spreads across Harry’s face as he watches Eggsy. This is rare, Eggsy thinks, tracing the wrinkles in the fabric of Harry’s shirt with his fingertips. Seeing Harry so utterly happy is rare and Eggsy can’t believe that it’s all his.
Harry shifts to look at Eggsy directly, the grin still tugging at his lips and wrinkling the corners of his eyes.
“I adore you,” he states simply. Eggsy can’t help himself from pushing forward to press his face against Harry’s, their lips touching in a tender kiss. When Eggsy pulls away, he once again settled against Harry’s chest.
“I can’t believe we’re gettin’ married,” he says, as dumbfounded as he’d been when Harry had popped the question.
“I can’t believe you said yes,” Harry retorts, sounding just as awe-struck. Eggsy rubs Harry’s thigh, furrowing his brows.
“I don’t think either of us can imagine me sayin’ anythin’ other than yes, Har,” Eggsy assures, turning to face Harry. The grin has faltered, but the corners of Harry’s lips are quirked just enough that Eggsy can make out his elation.
“You’ve no idea how lucky I am to have someone as unbelievably perfect as you in my life.” Harry dips his head and presses a quick kiss to Eggsy’s forehead, then the tip of his nose, then finally to his lips, lingering a bit longer when Eggsy melts into it.
After a few seconds, they fall apart, simply breathing against each other, big smiles on both of their faces.
“I fuckin’ love you, Harry Hart,” Eggsy whispers, pressing his forehead against Harry’s chest. Harry sighs. This truly is absolute perfection.
“And I love you, darling boy.”