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End of a Line

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It felt so good holding her again, having his face buried against her neck, her hair tickling his nose. He could feel her breath. Her warmth. Her hands gripping his jacket as if she never wanted to let go of him ever again.

Eggsy didn’t want to let go either. Knowing how close he had come to lose her – to his own stupidity and to Poppy’s insanity – made his legs weak.

It was only three hours since he had landed in Sweden and he was still painfully jetlagged from the flight back from Kentucky, but after everything that had happened these last few weeks he finally started to relax.

“I’ve missed you so much,” Eggsy whispered. “I thought I’d-- Fuck. I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” said Tilde, her voice barely holding. “And I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I’m— I love you.”

They were still standing just inside the door of Tilde’s private (but not very secret) home on Strandvägen. It was as neutral a space as they could find in Stockholm for their first meeting since that morning at the hotel before Glastonbury. It felt like an eternity ago. On his way up, Eggsy had been so nervous that he’d had difficulty breathing. Sure, they had talked a lot since she got the antidote – the last time just as Eggsy boarded the plane at Heathrow – but it wasn’t the same. And now…

“Marry me,” Eggsy said, with his face still against her neck.

“What? You sure?”

He nodded. “Hundred percent. Marry me.”

“Yes,” she whispered.

Eggsy lifted his head so that he could look at her. She kissed him, once, twice, and he could feel her smile against his lips. He gave her a third kiss before getting down on one knee, taking her hands in his.

“Eggsy, you don’t have—“

“Yes, I do,” he said. “I don’t want there to be any confusion, because I know what I said about my job. And about your job. But… but life’s fucked up and unpredictable and I want to spend the rest of mine with you. I don’t care about the other stuff. To hell with it. We’ll figure that shit out. Okay?”

Tilde nodded.

“Okay, so…” said Eggsy, barely audible and mostly to himself. He took a moment to glance at their hands and take a deep breath before looking up at her again. “Tilde, will you marry me?”


Eggsy let go of her hands and started to take off his signet ring.

“This is a loan,” he said as he took her hand again and put the ring on her finger. “I’m going to get you a proper one, okay?”

Tilde nodded again. “Okay.”

Eggsy smiled. He kissed her knuckle above the ring, then he got up and hugged her. Then he lifted her up and swirled her around the small space, almost knocking over a lamp, laughing. This was not what he had planned for his first night in Stockholm, but then again, life is unpredictable.