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Raindrops pattering on the window pane, a unique rhythm as they rise and fall against each other- fumbling, teasing with exploratory touches as they discover each other again and again amidst laughter as the exceptionally chirpy opening of Duck Tales- well, Quentin says its Duck Tales, even though she maintains its probably Count Duckula- filters in through the open windows. Barely any furniture- a mattress, few pillows and sheets that they call their bed. Their hands grasping the sheets, each other, as he presses her into the mattress, rocking against her; she rocks back, the only sounds in an otherwise empty house of their breathless gasps and sighs.
She smiles, lazily counting the creases in the sheets, as she waits for Quentin to come back with some breakfast. It’s only been a few months- but she is already in love with the bumbling Officer who had tried to clumsily flirt with her. It was difficult not too. Being with him feels natural, easy- like breathing, even as he tries to prove how smart he is, and ends up annoying her.
But sometimes- it just scares her how easy it is. How much she loves him. Sometimes he talks about how badly he wants to find out Black Canary, and it gnaws at her. Settling like a lump inside her. She has never told anyone. Never trusted anyone enough. And this, with Quentin-
"Here’s your breakfast, your highness."
She sits up, startled, the sheet covering her bunching over her waist. “Gosh, stop scaring me, Quentin”, she swats against his arm, smiling as he continues to beam at her with the most ridiculous expression and slides the covered plate towards her.
Rolling her eyes, Dinah makes a show of removing the cover, and gapes at him as she spots the burnt toasts. “Sorry babe, got a bit distracted.”
For some reason, his sheepish smile tells her if anyone, the man smiling down at her deserves that much trust. The way he looks down at her assures her of a forever, and forevers are ever only based on faith and trust. Pecking his cheek, she takes his hand in hers, “Can I tell you a secret, Quentin?”
"A secret?" his smile drops as he looks at her, and swallows quietly, "I have something to say too, babe."
"You do?" She tries not to look away as uncertainty bubbles inside her, "Why don’t you go first?"
"Why don’t we do it together?" He smiles nervously, and her heart rate speeds up.
"Together?" she looks at him, a short smile on her face as he nods. "Okay, uh-", sitting up on her knees, she cups his face between her hands, "baby, promise me you won’t be angry. It’s something I have never trusted anyone with, and I want to tell you."
He nods, also shifting on his knees, his hands clenching in his pocket as he watches her closely, “On the count of three, yeah?”
She nods and counts with him. “Baby, I am-“
He blurts out as soon as she begins, “Marry me, Di.”
Oh.