You don’t think you’ve ever seen Becca this quiet before – especially not in the middle of the night when you’re both wide awake.
She was obviously in a contemplative mood – lying on a pillow with her arms behind her head, eyes never leaving the ceiling.
Something was wrong but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it.
It was disconcerting, to say the least. Becca has never been one to talk about feelings and you never push her to say too much if she doesn’t want to. You know she’ll tell you when she’s ready.
But that doesn’t help to ease the sickening feeling at the pit of your stomach when you think that Becca might be going through something difficult alone.
You were going to open your mouth to say something – maybe a knock-knock joke? – anything to ease the growing tension.
But she beats you to it.
“MC, roses or tulips?”
“What, why?”
“Don’t ask. Just answer me.”
“Roses.”
“Good girl.”
And for a few moments, the room was dead silent again.
You feel the blankets shift slightly and you turn to see Becca sit up. The room was dark. The moonlight was barely streaming in through the window but it still manage to land perfectly on Becca’s beautiful features and blonde hair. If anything, she looked like a goddess from where you’re lying down. Who knew? It turns out that even the moon, sun, astronomy and possibly the entire world has to bend according to Becca’s will.
Your gaze naturally shifts back to her – her furrowed brows and a nicely-manicured finger resting on her chin, she looked breathtakingly beautiful. Even if you can’t quite see her.
“White roses or classic red ones? Perhaps yellow?”
“Uhhh…”
“MC, stop staring at me and choose.”
“Red. Definitely.”
“You’re boring, you know.”
“Eh, you like me like that.”
“Maybe.”
You expect another bout of silence but Becca immediately throws you another question.
“What about locations?”
“For what?” You ask, but you’re quite sure she’s too busy rambling on to hear you.
“A beach? Or maybe a restaurant? The one down the street that we both adore.”
“Becca…” You try to get her attention but the more she speaks, the more excited she becomes – a silly grin plastered on her face as she goes on and on and on about locations, locations, locations. The only way to get her attention at this point would probably be to feign a heart attack or something.
“What about a five star hotel? I should have some contac-”
She stops herself, turns to look at you and cups your face in her hands. Her hands were surprisingly cold against your cheeks and you see her glance down, sighing. Her hands were trembling, ever so slightly. You see her take a deep breath, before she lifts her head once more to meet your eyes. Though now, her eyes and her gaze trails over your face, as though memorising your features. You could almost hear the sound of your own breathing against your chest in this comfortable silence. She tilts her head, as a smile tugs at her lips. You feel a warmth spread across your chest.
This is nice.
“MC, I’ve been thinking about it a lot. Well, ever since I’ve known you, you’ve always pushed me to be a better version of myself. That’s why I’m saying this now. We haven’t always had the best relationship but I think I’m finally ready to do something big for…”
Her voice was almost a whisper – delicate and careful – as if she was afraid to say something wrong. Occasionally, you see her eyes dart elsewhere – towards the window at the side of the room, the mug at the top of your bedroom drawer, the fountain pen at your writing desk – and you can tell that she was nervous. Months and months of dating her, you know Becca Davenport looks you straight in the eye when she tells you something – that your clothing choice clashes, your hair is in a mess, her day was utter crap – and you love her and her unabashed honesty, the confidence that radiates from her entire being.
Yet, to see her in such a vulnerable state, you can’t help but to love her even more. Though, you also can’t help but wonder what the hell she’s trying to say? Asking you random ass questions in the middle of the night and being all sappy. Flowers, locations? What is she going to ask me about next? Rings?
Oh.
Was this a fucking proposal?
“Yes Becca! Of course I’d marry you, but did you really have to ask me in the middle of the night at 3am?”
All the gods in the world and brain cells in your head but none of them bothered to stop you from interjecting her. Well, in your defence, you didn’t have a clue what was going on exactly, you just kind of pieced two and two together and assumed like the smartass you are. But it wouldn’t be that bad if you’d just kept your assumptions to yourself, but your stupid ass had to blurt it out.
And right now, looking at Becca, you really wish you had zipped your goddamn mouth.
Becca was mortified. Her eyes widened, jaws dropped in disbelief.
You fucked up big time.
Immediately, you cast your gaze downwards, as though investigating the fine workmanship on this quilt bedsheet. Ah yes, very fine indeed. Excellent material and quality. Is Becca still mad at me? Maybe I should draft an apology in my head real quick.
Just as you were on draft 25, Becca must have just gotten over the shock because you hear her laugh.
“Do something big FOR my sister! You always do nice things for your friends and your family. It kind of inspired me to do the same. I wanted to throw a birthday party for Alexis. Oh my god MC, you idiot.”
“Oh.” It came out more of a whimper than anything else. You feel your cheeks flush red and for once, was thankful that the room was practically pitch black because you just know that Becca will get sucha kick from seeing you so embarrassed and red.
“I’m sooooo gonna tell your nerd herd about this! Especially Zilberg, oh my god! You’ll never hear the end of it!”
“Oh no.”
“Wow MC you embarrassing little shit. We’ve been dating for so long and you think I would propose while we’re trying to fall asleep? I am ashamed, I might have to reconsider my proposal if you’re so easily satis-”
“Wait! Your proposal? So you have thought about it!”
“What…No! You presumptuous little brat…Nobody said anything about marrying your stupid ass…I’m going to sleep now…loser.”
You feel her immediately slump back into bed. Without a word, she snatches the blanket off of you, pulling it over her head and leaving you bare and exposed to the cold air.
It seems like Becca doesn’t have any more questions or words to say. So, this time, it was up to you to break the silence.
“Hey Becca.”
You hear a muffled and pained “What?” from beneath the sheets. Someone was obviously still embarrassed – hiding away like an ostrich sticking its head into the ground – but you find it endearing, all the same.
“I love you.”
A few moments of silence.
“Yeah, whatever. Idiot.”
But you know she really meant ‘I love you too. Idiot.’