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Tonks has always been different. She is loud and vibrant and does what she wants, uncaring what people think of it or her. Fleur has seen her with different hair colours, sometimes even a completely unfamiliar face, has seen her experiment with clothes and styles, has watched her girlfriend change and transform while somehow always maintaining her core, what makes her Tonks.
Tonks has a new hobby every month, dedicates her time to learning Mermish, to luring pixies into settling in their garden, to re-painting every single wall in their flat. She never sticks to anything for long, not besides her devotion to being an Auror, always doing something new and trying something different. And Fleur loves that, loves coming home to see her entangled in wool because she tried to knit, loves the odd facts she posses and randomly shares.
But she also fears it, because Tonks never keeps anything besides the memory, grows tired of it and moves on. How long will it be until she - very gently no doubt - tells Fleur that she is done with their comfortable domesticity?
Fleur suspects they almost reached that point, that her little fantasy of an happy ending will be over. She though they would grow old together, would have the life Fleur has dreamed of since she was a little girl. She is very aware that that isn’t what everyone wants though, that some abhor the concept of binding yourself to one person and building your entire life around them, settling down with a house and children and spending most of your life in the same little corner of the world. It hasn’t occurred to her until recently, but Tonks is probably one of these people. It would only make sense, she is too wild a spirit to be tied down like this.
Not that Fleur would ever want to keep her if Tonks doesn’t want to be kept, if she wants to be somewhere else. Fleur loves her, and she wants to see her happy above all. Even if that happiness isn’t with her.
And lately Tonks doesn’t seem happy, out late and tight-lipped about where she was, secretive in a way she has never been before.
Fleur didn’t bring it up, didn’t ask, afraid of the answer. It's selfish, cowardly and nothing like she ever thought she would act, but she wants every last second she can get before Tonks leaves her for good. She is resolved to enjoy everything, savour every moment and don’t drive herself mad with questions of how long it will last, if this will be the last time.
So when Tonks surprised her with dinner reservations, she banned every thought of being gently told that this isn’t working. They will have dinner at a fancy restaurant and they will have a lovely time. Fleur won't be thinking about the uncertainty of their future.
At least that was the plan, but Tonks is distracted, shifting in her chair and hardly sitting still for a second. It's unsettling, taking away the last thing she has left. If Tonks can't even listen to her anymore when she actively sought her out, this must be the end.
“Fleur, I have something to ask, something to tell -” She breaks off, hands clenching in her pockets and whispering something to herself. Fleur steels herself, prepares as well as she can for the devastating news Tonks undoubtedly has. She will bear it with grace, she won't make a scene, she'll let her go. Fleur fought, tried to offer her what she needs, everything she can, but apparently it wasn't enough. Fleur lost.
Tonks clears her throat, recaptures her attention and finally is fully present, for maybe the first time this evening.
“I had a whole speech prepared, it seems inadequate now.” She chuckles, as if she made a joke, but Fleur wishes she would just get out with it, get it over with. “I love you and I can't imagine my life without you. Will you marry me?”
Fleur doesn’t know what to say, this is not what she expected, the complete opposite of what she thought Tonks would ask and exactly what she has yearned for. Tonks even has a ring, beautiful and delicate, shining in its little box. She must have planned this, must have thought on it for a long time and sought for the right ring to present her, deliberated over the right time to ask her. It explains so much, the sudden silence for fear she would tell her too soon, the increasing absence to find the perfect ring, the nervousness.
And then it seems obvious what to say, there is only one answer really, only ever will be one, because she can never deny Tonks anything.
“Yes.”