The next morning.
Hawk stirred from meditation within his Cosmos, his senses filled with the soft fragrance of hair brushing his nose. He opened his eyes and found Gwen sprawled across him, playfully teasing his face with her golden strands.
No—she wasn't just his girlfriend anymore.
She was his fiancée.
He had proposed last night. She had accepted.
Technically, by tradition, he should've asked George and Helen for their blessing first. But the moment had been perfect. Besides, both parents were present when he knelt with the ring. That counted, right?
And everyone had been happy.
Gwen's eyes had filled with tears as she leapt into his arms. Helen, shocked at first, soon covered her mouth with both hands, gazing at Hawk with delight and approval.
Howard and Simon… well, they'd been less subtle. The two little brothers, who had always longed to "move into Gwen's room," suddenly thought their chances had increased. Howard clutched the diamond he'd been given. Simon even asked if he could finally sleep in his sister's room.
As for George… best not to talk about George.
Hawk tightened his hold around Gwen, memory flashing back to the proposal. Then he asked cautiously, "So… how's George this morning?"
Gwen's expression turned odd. "He called in sick."
Hawk blinked. "Sick?"
"Headache."
"…Right." Hawk exhaled, smiling wryly. "My fault."
At least it wasn't worse. George hadn't dragged him to the shooting range—or worse, the border checkpoint.
"But he didn't object, did he?" Hawk asked, searching Gwen's emerald eyes.
She kept her face serious for a beat, then her lips broke into a radiant smile. "Of course not. The only reason he has a headache is because he agreed."
Relief flooded Hawk, and he laughed.
Whether George's blessing mattered to him or not, it mattered deeply to Gwen. And that was enough.
…
An hour later, the kitchen smelled of breakfast. Gwen, glowing, busied herself at the stove.
Hawk tried to help, but she ordered him to sit and watch. So he did, perched on a stool, eyes fixed on her as if she were already the lady of the house.
And in truth, she was. From the moment he slid the ring onto her finger, she had become the rightful mistress of this home—recognized, legitimate, witnessed by family.
Hawk admitted it had been impulsive. He'd planned to wait until after college, then marry and raise a family naturally. But last night, when Gwen declared so firmly that he was her future, how could he not answer with the same certainty?
Good thing that NASA scientist hadn't been lying. Otherwise, where in the world would he have found a one-of-a-kind diamond on such short notice?
"By the way," Hawk asked as Gwen turned, "where's the ring?"
"This?" Gwen pulled the massive fifty-carat purple-red diamond from her pocket. "I'm putting it in the safe."
Hawk arched a brow. "Why?"
"It's too big," she said honestly, staring at it with both awe and affection. The gem shimmered with her initials carved inside. She loved it—but it was utterly impractical. "Do you know how Mom looked at me when she saw this last night?"
Hawk finally realized the problem. In chasing uniqueness, he'd forgotten practicality. Wearing such a stone daily wasn't just inconvenient—it was impossible.
He chuckled, then stepped down from the stool.
Kneeling before her again, he produced another ring—this one still a purple-red diamond, but a far more manageable six carats.
Gwen gasped, covering her mouth.
"Gwen Stacy," Hawk said gently, "will you marry me… again?"
"Yes! Of course, yes!" She thrust out her hand before he could even finish.
Her eagerness made him laugh as he slid the smaller ring onto her finger. She immediately flung her arms around his neck, kissing him deeply.
Three minutes later, lips parted, Hawk took her hand and smiled. "This one doesn't need to go in the safe, right?"
"No one will ever make me take it off," Gwen said solemnly.
Then, practically skipping, she dashed upstairs to store the massive original stone and send a photo of this new ring to her mother.
Hawk watched his fiancée rush away, knowing George's "headache" was about to get worse once Helen received that picture.
The doorbell rang.
Hawk sighed, went to answer, and found a familiar face.
Sharon Carter, Peggy Carter's niece, stood there smiling politely. "Good morning, Mr. Hawk."
"Morning." He stepped aside, letting her in.
They sat in the living room. Hawk poured her a glass of iced water. Sharon thanked him, then got straight to the point.
"About last night," she said with a knowing smile. "Your speed frightened quite a few people."
Hawk raised a brow. "Frightened? Why? Guilty consciences worried I'd come knocking?"
He wasn't one for hiding in shadows or playing coy. Power displayed openly deterred most would-be schemers. Ross's grave and the ruins of Quantico proved his point well enough.
Still, he could understand Sharon's visit. Most high-level agents were overseas—Hill in Africa, Natasha and Barton in Wakanda, handling troublemakers there. That left only Sharon to make contact.
"Don't worry," Hawk said lightly. "As long as no one provokes me, I'm quite content to follow the rules. Last night, I simply… took a trip to the moon."
Sharon frowned. "The moon?"
"Yes."
"Mind telling me why?" she asked, smiling faintly. "If not, I can always write my own explanation for the report."
Before Hawk could answer, soft footsteps descended the stairs. Gwen, drawn by voices, came down.
Hawk rose, gestured between them.
"Gwen, this is Sharon Carter, S.H.I.E.L.D. agent."
Then he smiled, gaze unwavering.
"Sharon, this is Gwen Stacy—my fiancée."
…
(End of Chapter)
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