I'm No Masterpiece

Cold. All I can feel is cold. My fingers and toes are numb, and I can't feel anything on my face.

A wisp of hair blows into my face and senseless fingers, my own, brush it away from my eyes. The eyes squinting into the darkness, searching for a hint of movement. A sign of life. But they find nothing. He's not coming. Quit fooling yourself, I think, my lips pursed. He never planned to come, he just wanted you to wait in the freezing cold for him. He's probably sitting at home now, laughing at you. Just as I'm about to turn away, something catches my eye. Something tiny in the distance. Something six foot four with dirty red hair.

Liam. My Liam. I feel instant guilt for doubting he would come, but push it aside.

"Hope you didn't wait long," he says, pushing aside my strawberry blonde hair and kissing my forehead. His bright green eyes melt me like a candy bar in the sun, a warm feeling rushing through me, spreading outwards, reaching the tiny corners of my person, from the roots of my hair to the tips of my toes.

"Of course not," I reply. He gives me a suspicious look.

"Oh come now, love, you know I know you better than that. Your lips are blue." My nose wrinkles a bit as he plants his warm lips on my icy ones, holding for a moment, then he pulls away, slipping his hand into mine. Everything about him is warm, making me seem sad and pathetic by comparison. He starts to pull me in the direction of his car, his trademark mischievous smile on his lips.

"I've got something special planned for tonight," he says, holding the door open for me, then walking over to the drivers side.

"Do tell," I request, buckling myself in. He smiles.

"Well then it wouldn't be a surprise, would it, love?" He leans over and kisses me again, then turns his attention to driving. I sink back into the seat, and rack my brain where could he be taking me? On tonight of all nights, when it's too cold to really do anything but sit inside and drink hot chocolate?

"We're here." Here being a small clearing, surrounded by weeping willows and bright pink cherry blossoms. He climbs out of the car and comes around to my side to open the door, helping me out.

I bite my lip, taking a look around. "A-are you sure it's safe?" I ask, a little nervous. He nods reasurringly.

"Of course. Don't you trust me?" I give him a sheepish smile and interlace my fingers with his, squeezingt tightly as he leads me through the trees, branches bending away at his touch. We come out into another clearing, one that's really a wide plateau, with a wooden, old fashioned gazebo, sitting at the perfect place to look out onto the river. I walk ahead of him, looking out onto the stretch of river, the moonlight reflecting off it, cherry blossoms floating, carefree with the current.

"Oh Liam! I-it's beautiful," I whisper breathlessly. He comes up behind me, putting his arms around my waist and resting his head on my shoulder. "Happy birthday, sweetheart."

I lean up and kiss him softly. "This is the best birthday ever. Thank you." He slowly pulls away, spinning me around to face him. "I can make it better." I tilt my head at him.

"How?"

He reaches into his pocket, keeping it there for a moment. "I've been wondering who to give this to for years, and I finally figured out, after so long, that it was meant to go to you all along." He pulled out a tiny black box, placing it in my hands.

"Marry me, Eliza?"