This Could Be A Possibility
what's left of me, now.
Will coughs, and sneaks a peek at Abigail. He managed to finally (finally!) get Abigail’s lunchtime down, so he thought he’d surprise with homemade food.
It must be a sight, two people sitting on a brick wall with identical lunchboxes on their laps.
“You know I love you, right?”
Abigail raises an eyebrow.
“We’ve been dating for three years and this the first time you tell me you love me.”
There’s no poison, no nothing behind the words. She states it like a fact, because it is. She knows, knows that Will loves her with the burning intensity of things that are…hot, and burn bright. And she knows that he knows that she knows that he loves her, and—fuck.
Why’d she have to go and say that?
“Yeah, well I do love you,” Will says again, but with a smile. “I want you to have this.” He gives her a small purple box. “Wear all the time.”
She opens it.
Inside, smothered in velvety red (And she has to wince at the color scheme, because red and purple don’t….really match. Not really. But the thought, it’s the thought.) is a ring. A simple ring. A simple gold band, with a simple white diamond.
Abigail simply stares at it.
“It’s a ring.”
“Yeah.”
“A ring.” She repeats, puzzled.
“Yes.”
It dawns on her.
“An engagement ring.”
“Yes,” Will nods, happy that she got the idea.
Abigail takes another look at the ring, before slipping it on her finger.
“You want to be engaged to me?”
“Eventually married.” Will looks for her reaction. She nods, a smile on her face.
“Okay,” is all she says, before jumping down from the wall. Will can’t help but follow her.
“Lunch time is over.”
“I know.”
She stands in front of Will. She gets on her tippy toes and kisses him on the mouth.
“I want to eventually be married to you too.”
She hands him the lunchbox, and waltzes right back through the door to the club.
She stands still for a minute, before freaking the heck out. He gives a small cry of surprise, and rubs her face, because she is not crying because her awkward boyfriend of three years awkwardly proposed to her in the best way he knows how: honest and upfront. No.
Abigail gives a laugh, more tears coming down her face, smiling the damn sun has been given to her and only her, because holy fuck? She’s engaged.
She’s really fucking engaged.
It must be a sight, two people sitting on a brick wall with identical lunchboxes on their laps.
“You know I love you, right?”
Abigail raises an eyebrow.
“We’ve been dating for three years and this the first time you tell me you love me.”
There’s no poison, no nothing behind the words. She states it like a fact, because it is. She knows, knows that Will loves her with the burning intensity of things that are…hot, and burn bright. And she knows that he knows that she knows that he loves her, and—fuck.
Why’d she have to go and say that?
“Yeah, well I do love you,” Will says again, but with a smile. “I want you to have this.” He gives her a small purple box. “Wear all the time.”
She opens it.
Inside, smothered in velvety red (And she has to wince at the color scheme, because red and purple don’t….really match. Not really. But the thought, it’s the thought.) is a ring. A simple ring. A simple gold band, with a simple white diamond.
Abigail simply stares at it.
“It’s a ring.”
“Yeah.”
“A ring.” She repeats, puzzled.
“Yes.”
It dawns on her.
“An engagement ring.”
“Yes,” Will nods, happy that she got the idea.
Abigail takes another look at the ring, before slipping it on her finger.
“You want to be engaged to me?”
“Eventually married.” Will looks for her reaction. She nods, a smile on her face.
“Okay,” is all she says, before jumping down from the wall. Will can’t help but follow her.
“Lunch time is over.”
“I know.”
She stands in front of Will. She gets on her tippy toes and kisses him on the mouth.
“I want to eventually be married to you too.”
She hands him the lunchbox, and waltzes right back through the door to the club.
She stands still for a minute, before freaking the heck out. He gives a small cry of surprise, and rubs her face, because she is not crying because her awkward boyfriend of three years awkwardly proposed to her in the best way he knows how: honest and upfront. No.
Abigail gives a laugh, more tears coming down her face, smiling the damn sun has been given to her and only her, because holy fuck? She’s engaged.
She’s really fucking engaged.
♠ ♠ ♠
Tell someone you love them