Marry me...
1020 Words
Marry me...
Maurice's POV,
Ten Years ago,
“What is all this?” my tone turned numb as I turned to ask. “Did you do all this? Are you asking me out today, finally?” his eyes widened as he looked at me in shock. Aah!!! He was supposed to say that. Stupid! Stupid! Say nothing. Wait for him.
“Actually…” he scratched the back of his head, visibly hesitant. But before he could say something, I walked steps further on the petal-way to see the big heart on the center of the floor ending the petal’s path with enlightened vanilla-scented candles on its girth.
He is so romantic. I didn’t know.
“Happily ever after?” I read further as I went to see it hanging on the wall. There were people on the other side of the roof, in crowds, to watch us live this dream. They clapped, seeing us walking together. “Marry me?” The board covered in red roses in between red and black balloons said marry me. What? Marry? Me? You? Is this some misunderstanding? Did I make a fool out of myself? I felt like thorns from those flowers ripped through my skin. What have I done? “What is going on?” I asked turning all red from the embarrassment, as I turned back to look at him, I noticed a man dressed in a tuxedo walking with a beautiful blond in a blue sequin dress coming out of the elevator, walking down the same path as we did a moment ago. “It’s not for us?”
“No…” he nodded. “I think there has been a misunderstanding.”
What the f**k? Why did I get so excited, so soon, not knowing anything? Why embarrass yourself like this? No, this is humiliation. What should I do? I can’t jump down. I’m too beautiful to die. But I can run away. Can I still run away? There was nowhere to go. My legs are killing me. I can’t run. I don’t have my driver with me. How will I go home?
“Excuse me, kids, can you get aside?” a man muttered. He looked like a professional cameraman with that camera and lighting setups, and that dark brown hair, and dirty wrinkled red-black flannel.
“Yes, I’m sorry.” He took me to stand with the crowd on the other end. What should I do? What should I do? What did I just do? Stupid! i***t! Fool! He didn’t take you here to ask you out.
“Why did you bring me here?” I asked, ready to destroy the rest of the pride I was left with.
“Uh… actually…” he said, rubbing the back of his head. We were in the crowd, on the back, so much that all I can see was the variety of hair colors and how long people’s necks was but no one could see mine. I couldn’t even see the man proposing to the lady, but when the tremendous applause begins blaring in our ears, it is self-explanatory.
“Is he proposing now?” I jumped on my tippy toes, trying to look past the hair and heads, but as expected, it was an unsuccessful attempt. He could see them. How great to be that tall.
“We will get married like this too, one day?” What? Will we? He whispered in his breath, looking past the crowd, but even in the love claps, I heard him.
“You’re talking to me?” quietly I asked. It’s better to be sure this time. How much embarrassment could I handle in a day?
“Do you see anyone else I can talk to right now?”
“No!!” he sighed.
“Will we get married too, like them? Do you like this kind of proposal?” He went on further. “Do girls like these things?”
“You will marry me?” I ask. “Are you seriously asking me to marry you?”
“Why? I can’t?” he looks on my face like I sentenced him for life in prison. “I'm asking you to marry me.”
“No, I am very choosy for my husband. My list is very long.” It’s always fun teasing him and, huh, how much I love the expressions of embarrassment on his face.
“What should he be like?”
“Um… he has to be tall,” I look at his face. He gleamed at me as a faint smile appear on his face, “but it’s fine if he isn’t.” And now he isn’t smiling anymore. He is upset, he is disappointed, he is sulky like a child without his candy bar. “His eyes should be blue,” I added, “or grey. And I like blond men.”
“Mine are black…” he whispered in a low, noiseless breathless. Now I was having fun.
“I heard you. Why do you want me to marry you?”
“Yes! I’ll buy lenses both blue and grey since you like colored eyes. And I’ll get my hair dyed blond every week. What else?”
“He should have cute dimples and long luscious straight hair, like me.”
“There are plastic surgeries and I can always grow my hair. What more?”
“I love the British accent and Italian too.”
“I can learn to make one.”
“But I’ll only marry my boyfriend and you aren’t my boyfriend.”
“We can change that right now.” My eyes drifted up to meet his dark ones, and to me, it was over the wait, and I knew from now something new will begin.
We looked at each other like nothing else mattered when I felt his hands raising up from my hold. His lips caught mine in an endless depth of bliss and love. As I lose control, he swooped me in his muscular arms.
It’s a promise forever to be kept. I can never go back.
- Writer
