Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Three years and six months.

Hazel Hook had repeated those words to herself so many times over the past week that they no longer sounded like numbers.

Three years. Six months.

One thousand, two hundred and… she had stopped counting somewhere around month eight because Chloe had laughed at her for trying to calculate the exact number of hours they'd been together.

"You're ridiculous."

"I'm precise."

"You're in love."

"...Yeah," Hazel admitted after a beat. "That too."

The memory pulled the corner of her mouth upward before she could stop it. She sighed, rubbing a hand over her face.

"Focus."

She crouched in front of the old sea chest at the foot of their bed that she'd insisted on keeping after moving into the apartment because, according to her, every pirate deserved at least one unnecessarily storage solution.

Chloe had rolled her eyes back then. Then she'd started keeping blankets in it and Hazel still wasn't sure how she'd lost that battle.

The brass lock clicked open.

The chest wasn't exactly organized.

A faded map from one of their first adventures was folded into one corner, tucked beneath a blanket Chloe insisted they didn't need but still used every winter. Hazel's favorite navy-blue hoodie, stolen by her girlfriend and that hadn’t been in her possession for over two years, was draped carelessly over the rest. And—

Underneath both of them, nestled beneath a folded scarf, sat a small velvet box.

She let out a quiet breath. "There you are."

Hazel picked it up carefully, almost reverently. It wasn't flashy or extravagant because Chloe would've looked at a diamond the size of a dragon egg, smiled politely, and immediately asked if they could return it and use the money to help other people, so Hazel hadn't bought the biggest ring in Auradon.

She'd bought one that reminded her of Chloe: simple gold, with a tiny sapphire that caught the light every time it moved.

Elegant. Timeless. Perfect.

That was the advertising slogan for the ring at the store.

Just like—

"No," Hazel muttered, squeezing her eyes shut. "We're not doing that."

She refused to become one of those people who compared their significant other to stars or oceans or poetry. She was Hazel Hook, the daughter of Captain Hook, the sister of Harry Hook. Former VK and sword enthusiast.

…

Okay, maybe she'd already become one of those people.

She flipped the box open and the ring caught the morning light spilling through the bedroom window. For a long moment, she just stared. This was real. No longer an idea, no longer a plan either, and not another draft of the speech she'd rewritten sixteen times.

An actual ring for an actual proposal for an actual future.

With Chloe.

Her heart immediately decided to sprint.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me," she checked her pulse and it was fast, way too fast. "I'm literally standing still."

But it was still fast.

Fantastic.

Hazel closed the box with a soft snap before she could convince herself to check the ring for the eighteenth time that morning. She'd already inspected it for scratches… twice. Made sure it fit inside the box… three times. Confirmed it hadn't mysteriously disappeared overnight… at least five.

She wasn't nervous, just... being thorough, at least that was the story she intended to stick to. Checking the ring eighteen times before breakfast wasn't nerves, it was being thorough and that was very different.

Like completely different.

That's what she kept telling herself every time she checked the ring for scratches, counted the contingency plans in her notebook, or made absolutely sure the box was still exactly where she'd left it.

Her gaze drifted to the notebook resting on the nightstand: dark leather cover, dog-eared pages, a ton of colorful tabs sticking out from the side.

She stared at it for a few seconds before groaning. "No."

As she reached for it anyway, the first page was covered in neat handwriting.

Proposal Plan — Final Version.

Crossed out beneath it.

Actual Final Version.

Crossed out again.

Seriously Final Version.

Another line.

If this isn't the last version, I'm throwing this notebook into the sea.

Hazel blinked. "...I should've stopped after version six."

She flipped through the pages: possible locations, backup locations, backup locations in case the backup locations failed, weather forecasts, flower options, timeline, contingency plans, emergency contingency plans…

She had even made a list titled:

Things That Could Go Wrong.

It was three pages long and she wasn't proud of that.

Actually...

She was a little proud because it was color-coded, and Chloe loved color-coded.

When a key rattled in the apartment door, Hazel froze.

No.

No, no, no.

Chloe wasn't supposed to be home for another twenty minutes.

Panic hit with astonishing speed.

The notebook, the ring, the chest… everything.

"Oh, come on!"

She shoved the notebook under a pillow and soon realized it was a bad idea. Too obvious. Pulled it back out and thought about stuffing it into a kitchen cabinet.

No.

Why would she put a notebook next to the cereal?

Hazel's eyes darted around the room, trying to decide what to save first. The notebook was still open on the bed, the small box was still in her hand, and the chest she'd spent weeks using as the world's best hiding place suddenly felt about as secure as leaving everything on the kitchen table.

She grabbed the notebook again.

The ring.

Where was—

Right.

Still in her hand.

"Oh, brilliant."

Keys jingled again, the lock clicked, and Hazel looked around the bedroom like it had personally betrayed her.

Blanket?

No.

Drawer?

Too predictable.

Pocket?

What if she forgot it was there and accidentally did laundry?

Absolutely not.

Footsteps echoed from the hallway.

"Hazel?" Chloe called. "I'm home!"

Hazel's eyes landed on the old sea chest.

"...Okay!" she practically dove toward it, tossed the velvet box inside with the notebook, slammed the lid shut—and immediately realized she'd forgotten to lock it. "...You've got to be kidding me."

"Hazel?"

"I'm—" she fumbled with the lock, dropped the key, and it hit the floor with a metallic clink. "...busy!"

A pause.

"...Busy doing what?"

Hazel stared at the chest, at the key, at the door, at her rapidly disappearing dignity.

"...Pirate stuff!"

Silence.

Then Chloe laughed, warmly, brightly, completely unconvinced. "...Should I be worried?"

Hazel finally managed to lock the chest, snatched the key off the floor and leaned against it as if her life depended on it. "...Probably not."

Another pause.

"...That wasn't a very reassuring answer."

Hazel squeezed her eyes shut.

Three years. Six months.

She had planned every detail of the perfect proposal, but it wasn’t even ten in the morning already, and everything was starting to go wrong.

Hazel barely had time to shove the key into her pocket before the bedroom door swung open and Chloe stepped inside. Her hair was still slightly messy from the wind outside and there was a tiny crease between her eyebrows, the one she always got when she was confused or concentrating on not dropping something, and Hazel felt her entire train of thought derail immediately.

Right, that was part of the problem.

Three years and six months later, Chloe Charming could still walk into a room and make Hazel forget what she was doing.

"Why are you standing in front of the chest?"

It was only after Chloe’s observation that it took Hazel a second to notice she was still standing in front of the chest like a guard dog protecting buried treasure.

Her smile froze. "Why are you asking so many questions?"

Chloe laughed and Hazel's heart did something embarrassing in her chest. "You sound guilty."

"I'm not guilty."

"You definitely sound guilty."

"I'm standing in my own bedroom."

"Directly in front of a locked chest."

"It's called decoration."

"Since when?"

"Since today."

Chloe stared at her and Hazel stared back. She had managed to do three things: lock the chest, hide the key, and convince herself she looked normal, so she could act normal.

The first two had gone surprisingly well.

The third lasted exactly two seconds.

"Hazel, why are you looking at me like that?"

Hazel blinked. "What?"

"Like that."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Chloe smiled the smile of someone who absolutely knew what she was talking about. "Okay."

Hazel narrowed her eyes. "That was suspicious."

"That was a normal response."

"No, it wasn't."

"It was."

"It had the tone."

"The tone?"

"The I know something you don't know tone."

Chloe laughed, taking steps toward her. "I literally just got home."

"Exactly."

"Exactly what?"

"I haven't figured that out yet."

Chloe leaned up and kissed her cheek, and the entire train of thought Hazel had been gathering now immediately derailed again. Completely. Gone. Lost at sea.

"Hi," Chloe said.

Hazel stared at her for a second, then another. "...Hi."

There was a pause.

Chloe's smile widened. "Oh my god."

"What?"

"You forgot what you were saying."

"I did not."

"You so did."

Hazel opened her mouth but nothing came out, it only made Chloe look unbearably pleased with herself.

"Ugh, I hate when you're right."

"No, you don't."

Chloe shook her head and turned on her feet, stepping out of the bedroom and heading to the kitchen. After a few seconds, Hazel finally remembered how to use her legs and joined her, following Chloe into the kitchen.

One side of the kitchen looked unmistakably like Hazel with the dark wood, old pirate trinkets and a compass hanging by the window for no practical reason whatsoever. The other side belonged entirely to Chloe with fresh flowers, cookbooks and a bowl of fruits Hazel never touched.

Over the months the apartment had stopped looking like either of them, and instead it simply looked like home now.

"What'd you get?"

"Pastries."

"Good."

"And coffee."

"Better."

"And something for Red."

Hazel paused. "Why?"

"Because she looked like she hadn't slept in three days."

"That sounds like Red."

"That's exactly what I said," Chloe laughed softly.

There were two paper bags on the counter, filled with pastries and coffee cups for each. Hazel watched her reach for two plates, watched her push one toward her without thinking, watched her slide the larger pastry onto Hazel's plate because she'd always claimed she wasn't hungry and then immediately stole food from everyone else's plate.

The habit had become a thing years ago and neither of them even acknowledged it anymore because it just happened. Like breathing, like reaching for each other’s hands, or like Chloe leaving half her wardrobe in Hazel's closet.

The thought made Hazel smile.

"What?"

Hazel nearly jumped. "What do you mean, what?"

"You're smiling again."

"Oh, that's illegal now?"

"No," Chloe pointed at her. "That smile specifically."

Hazel immediately became suspicious. "...What smile?"

"The one that means you're thinking about something."

"Everyone smiles when they're thinking about something."

"Not like that."

"You're making things up."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay."

Hazel narrowed her eyes, that was too easy, like suspiciously easy. "What does that mean?"

"It means I'm choosing not to investigate."

"Why?"

"Because every time I investigate, I end up learning something I didn't want to know."

Hazel blinked. "...What does that mean?"

"Remember the time I opened one of your desk drawers looking for scissors?"

"No."

"You had three shackles and an axe in there."

"Those were old shackles and that axe wasn't what you thought, I told you it needed sharpening."

"I don’t know what I thought and I still don’t know what I think, that doesn't make it better."

Hazel thought about it. "...I disagree."

Chloe pointed at her without looking up from unpacking breakfast. "Exactly."

The smell of pastries quickly filled the apartment. Hazel finally relaxed enough to sit down, a little, not much. The ring was still hidden, the chest was still locked, everything was under control, more or less.

Maybe less.

Chloe placed her coffee in a mug in front of her. "Here."

Hazel accepted it immediately. "You're my favorite person."

"You say that every time I bring you coffee."

"Have you considered bringing me coffee less often?"

"No."

"Then you're stuck being my favorite."

A faint blush appeared on Chloe's cheeks, and Hazel smiled into her mug.

Still got her.

Good.

For a few peaceful minutes, they ate in that comfortable silence that only happened after years together, with no pressure to fill every second, no awkwardness, and just the quiet sounds of morning.

Hazel was beginning to think she might survive the day.

Then Chloe spoke. "So."

Hazel immediately knew she wasn't going to survive the day. "So?"

"You've been acting weird all week."

Hazel nearly inhaled her coffee. "What?"

"Weird."

"I have not."

"You totally have."

"I have been completely normal."

Chloe looked at her, Hazel looked back, the silence stretched. "...You made a spreadsheet."

Hazel frowned. "That doesn't prove anything."

"You made a spreadsheet ranking possible weekend activities."

"It was efficient."

"It was twenty-three pages, are weekends that long?"

"It was a comprehensive spreadsheet of many possibilities."

Chloe laughed and Hazel tried very hard not to smile, but she failed.

Again.

"Seriously," Chloe said. "What's going on?"

Nothing!

Everything.

An engagement ring hidden ten feet away, a proposal planned down to the minute, three pages of speech drafts, half of Auradon probably knowing about it…

Not much, right?

"Work."

Chloe immediately squinted, that was never a good sign. "You're lying."

"I'm not."

"Hazel."

"I'm not."

"Hook."

"Okay, maybe a little."

"There it is."

Hazel groaned and dropped her forehead onto the table. "This is why people keep secrets from you."

"I knew it."

"You didn't know anything."

"You literally just admitted you're hiding something."

Hazel lifted her head. "That could mean anything."

"It doesn't."

"It does."

"It really doesn't."

The grin spreading across Chloe's face made Hazel instantly nervous because Chloe only smiled like that when she thought she had figured something out.

And Chloe was terrifyingly good at figuring things out.

"Oh no," Hazel said.

"Oh yes."

"No."

"You're planning something."

"No."

"You are."

"I'm not."

"You just said you were."

Hazel considered jumping out the nearest window, just because it seemed easier.

"You know," Chloe continued casually, "Red has also been acting weird."

Hazel froze. "Oh?"

"And Max."

Hazel froze harder. "Interesting."

"And mom."

"Oh, come on!"

Chloe pointed at her. "Aha!"

"Aha what?"

"That."

"That what?"

"That reaction."

Hazel buried her face in her hands. Somewhere in Auradon, she was going to find every single one of her friends and personally strangle them.

"You're truly impossible."

"So I've been told."

"You don't even have evidence."

"I don't need evidence."

"That's not how investigations work."

"I'm a princess."

"That's definitely not how investigations work for princesses either."

Chloe laughed so hard she nearly spilled her coffee and Hazel couldn't help laughing too, because this was the problem with Chloe: even when she was accidentally destroying months of careful planning, Hazel still wanted to kiss her.

Frankly unfair.

Chloe reached across the table and squeezed her hand, the gesture was so casual she probably didn't even think about it, but Hazel did. Hazel noticed every time, still, after all these years.

"Whatever you're hiding," Chloe said softly, "you know you can tell me when you're ready."

Hazel looked down at their joined hands then back up at Chloe and her familiar smile, her brown eyes and the warmth in them.

The future she wanted so badly it sometimes scared her.

During one terrifying second, she almost felt like telling her everything, about the ring, about the plan, about the speech, all of it.

Instead, she squeezed Chloe's hand back.

"Yeah," and because she was a coward, or because she wanted this one surprise to work, she added. "You'll know soon enough."

Chloe tilted her head, completely suspicious, totally curious and entirely too clever, but she let it go eventually.

For now.

And Hazel had a feeling that "for now" wasn't going to last very long.

Breakfast ended up lasting longer than either of them had planned, even though they weren’t particularly hungry this morning, they just… lingered. It had become another of those habits neither of them remembered starting.

On mornings when neither had somewhere urgent to be, they stayed at the table long after the food was gone, talking about nothing in particular. Sometimes it was politics, sometimes it was magic, sometimes they spent a good twenty minutes debating over hot dogs and whether it counted as a normal sandwich.

Today, somehow, they'd ended up arguing over whether dragons could be considered cats in any reality.

"They're territorial," Chloe pointed out.

"They breathe fire."

"So do you before coffee."

"I do not?!" Chloe raised an eyebrow and Hazel sighed. "...That was one time."

"It was three."

"I was under a lot of stress."

"You'd run out of coffee."

"Which means a lot of stress."

Chloe laughed again and Hazel decided, not for the first time, that she could probably spend the rest of her life chasing that sound.

She frowned. Probably?

Definitely.

A comfortable silence settled again between them and Chloe gathered the empty coffee cups to throw them away, because they preferred drinking coffee in mugs, while Hazel reached for the paper bags, folding them absentmindedly into neat squares.

"You know you don't have to do that," Chloe said.

"I know, but you like it."

"And you always do it."

"I know."

Chloe smiled to herself.

It had taken Hazel almost a year to get used to sharing a home with someone else. Although she'd never admit it out loud, in the beginning she'd been convinced she'd be terrible at it, she wasn't exactly known for being easy to live with.

Then Chloe had quietly started leaving little notes around the apartment.

Don't forget lunch.

Good luck today.

I love you.

Nothing that asked for anything in return, just little reminders that someone was happy she was there, and then without Hazel noticing when it happened, sharing a space had become the easiest thing in the world.

"I should probably get ready," Chloe said, standing.

Hazel nodded. "Council meeting?"

"Mhm."

"The exciting one?"

"There are no exciting council meetings."

"There was that one with the enchanted chickens."

Chloe groaned. "We agreed never to mention the enchanted chickens again."

"They're part of history."

"They escaped into the ballroom."

"They were making history."

"They bit my father."

"They were very committed to the cause of making history."

Chloe tried not to laugh and look annoyed, but she failed. Hazel looked too pleased with herself for that.

"I can't believe I'm dating you."

Hazel leaned back in her chair. "You've been saying that for three and a half years."

"And somehow I still mean it."

"I choose to take that as a compliment."

"It is." Chloe walked around the table, stopping beside Hazel's chair.

Without saying a word, she rested a hand on Hazel's shoulder, just a familiar, comfortable and automatic loving gesture.

Hazel looked up. "What?"

"I was thinking."

"...That usually worries me."

"It shouldn't."

"It has every reason to."

Chloe rolled her eyes fondly before leaning down to kiss her, very softly and unhurried. The kind that had long since become part of their routine.

When they pulled apart, Chloe brushed her thumb across Hazel's cheek. "You've been somewhere else all morning."

Hazel swallowed.

Had she?

Probably.

It was difficult not to be when there was an engagement ring hidden less than fifteen feet away.

"I'm fine."

"I know."

"You don't believe me."

"I believe that you'll tell me when you're ready."

Hazel's chest tightened, she loved that about Chloe. Chloe never pushed, never demanded, instead she simply waited. Sometimes that made keeping secrets even harder.

"I promise," Hazel said quietly.

"I know," another kiss, quick this time, then Chloe turned toward the bedroom.

Hazel's eyes widened. "The bedroom?"

"Mm-hm."

"I thought you were getting ready."

"I am."

Hazel stood so quickly her chair scraped loudly across the floor. "I'll... come with you."

Chloe blinked. "...Why?"

"So I can..." Hazel searched desperately for an excuse. "...supervise."

"Supervise me getting dressed?"

"That came out wrong."

"I certainly hope so," Chloe folded her arms and Hazel could practically hear Red laughing at her from somewhere across Auradon. "You are being unbelievably strange today."

"I've always been strange."

"True, but today feels… stranger."

Hazel opened her mouth, but closed it again because this was fine. Everything was fine. Chloe wasn't heading toward the chest, she was just going to their closet.

There was absolutely no reason to panic.

Then Chloe frowned. "Oh."

"What?"

"I left my scarf in the chest yesterday."

Hazel's soul left her body. "The... chest?"

"Yeah."

"The one in the bedroom?"

Chloe gave her an amused look. "Do we have another one?"

Hazel laughed and it sounded alarmingly close to a squeak. "No."

"Great." Chloe turned toward the hallway. Hazel moved before she even realized she had, she stepped directly into Chloe's path and there was a beat of silence. "...Hazel."

"Hi."

"...You're blocking the hallway."

"I am."

"Any particular reason?"

Hazel smiled, it was the least convincing smile she'd ever produced. "No."

Another pause.

Chloe looked at Hazel, then toward the bedroom, then back at Hazel. "...Is there something in that chest I shouldn't see?"

Hazel's heartbeat thundered in her ears now. "No."

"Then why can't I open it?"

"...Because."

"Because...?"

Hazel searched her brain and nothing. Absolutely nothing. The woman who had planned sixteen versions of a proposal suddenly couldn't come up with a single believable lie.

Finally, she blurted the first thing that came to mind.

"...It's your birthday present," the words hung in the air while Hazel blinked.

Chloe blinked too, then, very slowly, she smiled. "My birthday is in four months."

Hazel closed her eyes. "...I like to plan ahead."

There was more silence.

Then Chloe laughed so hard she had to grab Hazel's arm to steady herself. Hazel couldn't even be offended, she was laughing too, mostly because there was no other option.

"You," Chloe managed between laughs, "are the worst liar I've ever met."

Hazel sighed dramatically. "I know."

"And I love you anyway."

"I was really hoping that would be the conclusion."

"It always is," still smiling, Chloe reached up and fixed Hazel's crooked collar. "You know," she said softly, "whatever you're hiding..." she leaned in just enough for their foreheads to touch. "...I'm sure it'll be worth the wait."

Hazel looked into those impossibly brown eyes, smiling despite herself. "I hope so."

Chloe kissed her one last time before finally heading to the closet instead of the chest. Hazel stayed exactly where she was until she heard the wardrobe doors open, only then did she let out the breath she'd been holding.

She reached into her pocket and wrapped her fingers around the tiny brass key.

"So far," she whispered to herself, "still alive."

For now, at least.

The apartment felt weirdly quiet after Chloe left. Hazel stood in the middle of the kitchen for a moment, listening, the kettle clicked as it cooled, a carriage rolled past outside, followed by distant laughter from somewhere in the streets below.

Then…

Nothing.

She smiled to herself.

There had been a time when silence had felt normal, now it just felt like Chloe had stepped out for a little while.

Hazel gathered the empty mugs from the counter, rinsed them in the sink, and wiped down the counter without really thinking about it. It was all just muscle memory now. Three years ago, she would've laughed if someone had told her she'd grow into the kind of person who cleaned the kitchen before noon.

She blamed Chloe entirely, not because she ever asked Hazel to, she obviously would never, but living with Chloe had simply made Hazel want to take care of the life they'd built together and it still caught her off guard sometimes.

She dried her hands and wandered back into the bedroom.

The old sea chest was exactly where she'd left it, locked and safe. Hazel crouched beside it again, resting one elbow on the lid.

"You almost got me killed," she muttered and the chest, unsurprisingly, offered no apology.

Hazel pulled the key from her pocket and unlocked it one more time. Just one more look, that was all. The velvet box was still there because of course it was, she picked it up, turning it over in her hands, and the sapphire caught the light pouring through the bedroom window, throwing little flashes of blue across her fingers.

Blue.

She hadn't even realized she'd chosen it because it reminded her of Chloe until the jeweler pointed it out.

"Your girlfriend likes blue?"

Hazel stared at him for a full five seconds. "...Is it that obvious?"

The poor man smiled like he'd heard that answer a hundred times before.

She opened the box again, the ring hadn't changed since the last time she'd checked, or the time before that… or the twelve times before those. Still perfect. Still terrifying.

Hazel let out a quiet laugh.

"I've fought pirates," well she'd grown up with them, which was close enough. "I've fought monsters," which was true. "I've survived my father's cooking," and it was objectively the greatest achievement on the list. "So why does this feel so much scarier?"

Because this mattered. Because it was Chloe. Because no battle, no adventure, no impossible quest had ever made her feel as vulnerable as loving someone this completely.

Hazel closed the box and leaned back against the side of the bed.

She remembered telling Red once that falling in love was a terrible idea, too risky, too much to lose, and Red had nearly choked on her drink.

"Hazel," she said between laughs, "you're the daughter of Captain Hook. Since when are you afraid of risk?"

Hazel hadn't had an answer then, but she did now. It wasn't the risk she was afraid of, it was how much Chloe meant, because loving someone gave them the power to break your heart.

It also gave them the power to become your home.

Hazel would choose the second one every single time.

She looked down at the ring one last time before carefully closing the box.

Three years and six months.

Sometimes it still felt impossible that it had all started with one glance across a crowded festival. Five seconds, that was all it had taken. Five seconds to notice the girl in blue laughing with her friends. Five seconds to think she'd never seen anyone smile like that. Five seconds to realize she'd already lost.

Hazel laughed quietly. "Pathetic."

She tucked the ring safely back inside the chest and locked it once more, then rested her forehead against the lid, closing her eyes.

She could still remember every detail: the music, the lights, the ridiculous amount of glitter too, the way Chloe had thrown her head back when she laughed, the first thing Hazel had thought when she saw her…

Well... that's going to be a problem.

Because three years and six months earlier… Hazel Hook had absolutely no intention of falling in love.