Seven Hells

“I thought I told you that I didn’t want any surprises this year,” I said, allowing my boyfriend to guide me up a set of stairs as I tried fruitlessly to peek through my blindfold, “Now, I could be wrong in my opinion, but this feels an awful lot like a surprise.”

“Well, yeah. It is. And I know you said no surprises, but today is special.”

“Special,” I huffed, “I’m twenty-two. Practically an old woman.”

“My old woman,” Sam corrected me before finally pushing a door open.

“Okay, the jig is up,” I said, feeling a gentle burst of warm wind hit my cheeks as Sam led me through the door, “You’ve now led me all the way from the safety and comfort of our apartment to a fifteen minute taxi ride to a strange building where we climbed I don’t even know how many flights of stairs—blindfolded all of the way, mind you. Now you’ve got me, presumably, on the roof of said building. Are you planning on killing me in cold blood, Samuel Winchester?”

“Well, shit. You caught me,” Sam sighed, and I smiled as I felt him move behind me, his lips dangerously close to my ear. “You know, I have thought about it a few times. As an aspiring lawyer, I think I’ve got what it takes to get away with it. There’s only one thing that’s stopping me.”

“Really? And what would that be? Pray tell.”

“I think I’d miss you far too much.”

I threw my head back in laughter at this. “Always the charmer.”

“Mmm,” Sam hummed, his hands moving to untie my blindfold. I let out a sigh of relief, my eyes taking their sweet time in adjusting to the warm illumination the string lights and candles gave off. At the sight of the scene played out before me—a beautiful and intimate rooftop dinner for two—I turned to narrow my eyes at Sam. He offered me an unimpeachable grin.

“I say no surprises and what does he do? He double surprises.”

“I would tell you to sue me, but that would be bad lawyerly advice. You would never get away with it,” I laughed at his attempt at a joke and cupped his face with my hands before pressing my lips against his. Sam’s arm easily found its way around my waist as he moved to deepen the kiss.

“It’s beautiful, Sammy. Truly. You really shouldn’t have—”

“But I did, so sit that little butt of yours down and enjoy it.”

I shook my head at him playfully before choosing one of the two seats to sit in. Sam took the opposite and opened up his menu, his hazel eyes skimming it hastily. I quirked an eyebrow at how nervous he had seemed to become in such a short period of time and thought to mention it but instead focused my eyes on the chilled wine bottle in between us.

“Oh my—wait, is this—”

“Domaine Leflaive Chevalier-Montrachet Grand Cru,” Sam nodded, and I couldn’t help but laugh as he completely and utterly butchered the French accent. My eyes flared once more at the sight of the bottle and I looked to him, my mouth open.

“A single bottle of this goes for hundreds of dollars, and it’s only sold in—”

“France and Canada, oui,” Sam finished for me, “You said it was the best chardonnay you had ever tasted when we went to Quebec and I thought you would have liked a bottle. You talked about it for long enough, now drink up, mademoiselle.”

“But—so expensive…”

“Emma,”

“What?”

“Just… shhh,” Sam put his finger up to his lips. I bit back a smile as I poured the both of us generous glasses of the French chardonnay. A satisfied sigh fell through my parted lips upon tasting it and I had to fight to put the glass down. “Is it as good as you remember?”

“Even better,” I said, ever the wino. Sam smiled triumphantly as I flipped open my menu and began to skim the offerings. “What restaurant is this? You didn’t max out all of your credit cards just to rent this place for the night, did you?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Sam!” I exclaimed, my eyes widening with guilt.

“It wouldn’t be your business even if I did, but I didn’t,” Sam spoke teasingly, flashing me a smile as my face perked back up at this information. “And stop giving me that little puppy dog look. You didn’t ask for any of this so you don’t have the right. I love you, and I wanted to treat you because…”

“Because what?” I asked, furrowing my brows together.

“Here we go,” Sam mumbled, inhaling before running a hand through the shaggy brown hair he couldn’t even be bothered to brush for the occasion. I frowned slightly at his distress, prodding him on with my eyes. “I had originally planned to wait until after dinner, but—I can’t do it. I’ve got some… really great news.”

“Well, don’t leave me in suspense!” I exclaimed, peering over the table eagerly as he pulled out an opened envelope from an inside pocket of his suit jacket and handed it over to me. I hesitated, watching him for a moment before taking it from his hands and pulling the letter out. I nearly dropped the letter the second I unfolded it and my eyes landed on the Yale Law School logo and the ‘Congratulations!’ typed promptly beneath it.

“Oh my God,” I said, clapping a hand over my mouth as I looked to Sam, “Oh my God. Oh my God! Sam, you got accepted into Yale! Oh my God! How—I didn’t even know you had applied! You big lump! Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t tell anyone. Didn’t want anyone to be disappointed if I didn’t get in.”

“I would never be disappointed, I…” I shook my head, looking down at the letter once more to reaffirm that this was actually happening. “This is incredible. Jesus H. Christ. Are you going? You’re going, right? You accepted their offer?”

“Hey. Relax. Breathe,” Sam laughed lightly, “I’m going to send in my deposit this week so they can secure me a seat.” I nearly knocked over the table to get to him at this. I plopped down into his lap and wrapped my arms around his neck before showering him in kisses. “Emma. Hey, Em. There’s more.”

“More?” I asked, raising my eyebrows.

“Yeah. I want you to come with me. Will you come with me?” Sam asked, pulling away slightly before looking me in the eye. “I know that it’s asking a lot, asking you to pick up and move across the country, especially when you’re more than halfway finished with your degree—”

“Sam Winchester, I would follow you through all seven hells if you asked me to,” I said, cupping my hands over his cheeks and kissing him, “I can find a school to transfer to in Connecticut. I’m not worried in the slightest bit.”

“I love you,” Sam murmured, pressing his lips to mine. I deepened the kiss as I tightened my arms around him, hardly noticing when he began to lightly tug away from me once more. “But we can’t start celebrating yet, baby…”

“What? Why? This is amazing news, Sam! You absolutely should celebrate.”

“Because. There’s just one more little thing I’ve got up my sleeve.”

“What are the chances you hid a defibrillator up here somewhere? Because I don’t think my heart can take much more.”

“Zero, but I can start dialing 911,” Sam said, laughing lightly as I smacked his shoulder. “I feel like I don’t tell you this enough. I love you. So much that it scares me sometimes. I don’t know why. Maybe it was your laugh, or your eyes, or your smile. It could have been your hair, or your personality, or that cute little Texan drawl of yours…” I giggled as he briefly jabbed his tickling fingers into my ribs. “Whatever it was, it made me fall pretty damn hard for you. Everything you do, everything you say, everything you are. You’re my first thought in the morning, you’re my last thought before I fall asleep, and you’re almost every thought in between,” I felt a deep blush creep on my face at Sam’s words, “There’s… really only one thing I would like to change about you.”

My heart sank and I began to rack my brain.

“The fact that I don’t separate whites and colors?”

Sam narrowed his eyes slightly. “What? No—”

“I take too long to get ready when we go out?”

“No—”

“Is it something more serious?” I asked, my eyes widening.

“Stop guessing, Emma! You were just supposed to say ‘what?’.”

“Well, what then?” I asked, putting my hands on my hips. Sam groaned.

“Your last name,” he finally said. I knitted my eyebrows together.

“Mooney? Does it bother you that much?”

“I’m asking you to marry me, dummy.”

My jaw nearly hit the floor of the roof as Sam rummaged through another pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out a black velvet box. He held it before me in the flat of his palm and prodded me on with his eyes. Slowly I opened the box, letting out a chortled sort of squeaking noise when I saw the ring that was inside. A beautiful diamond—I didn’t know the specifics of the size but Sam definitely hadn’t skimped out—in a solitaire setting, the band a crisp gold color. I put my hand over my mouth as tears welled in my eyes and Sam watched me, awaiting an answer. “Emma, I’m going to spend the rest of my life with you regardless of if you consent to it or not, but if you said yes it’d probably be a little easier…”

Finally my brain caught up to speed and I blinked, nodding furiously.

“Yes, Sam. Yes. Oh my God. I’m going to throw up.”

“Don’t do that, baby,” Sam smiled, taking the ring out of the box and moving to place it on my ring finger. He had to grab my hand to steady it and keep it from shaking as he slid it on. It was a perfect fit and for a moment I wondered if he had called somebody—my mother or my sister—to find out what my ring size was, if anyone else was in on this. I wrapped my arms around his neck once more, sobbing noisily into his nice crisp jacket.

“Don’t cry, Em,” Sam said, laughing lightly.

“It’s okay. I’m crying happy tears,” I assured him, “I love you, Sam.”

“I love you, Missus Winchester.”

“I could get so used to that.”