p/s: before we begin, just... keep a lookout for certain messages that aren't out in the open. ;)
Hint: It's in the letter.
Let's just say... I don't have much experience with the whole letter-writing ordeal. Don't laugh just yet! I know, I know. Handwritten letters are so overrated but just, please, bear with me while I struggle with my words. I'll have you know how difficult it is, having to summon so much courage to write to the man of my dreams. It's like writing to Austin Butler but worse, because unlike him, you will be reading the contents of this letter. Unlike him, you will have to respond to me. Unlike him, you're not taken by Vanessa Hudgens. And the thought of it freaks me out. A lot. So much that I have my bag of clothes packed... Just in case the night goes awry and I need to run. But for you, baby, I am willing to muster every drop of confidence I have left to make this work. After all, you're worth it.
Evenings. You made me fall in love with evenings of Spring, because that's when we first met. Can you remember the tiny little details of that particular evening? I do! It's funny how everything feels like it just happened yesterday, albeit it's been ten good years. But still, it feels like just yesterday when you tripped over my very, very expensive pumps, stepped all over my sketches, and spilled my paint all over my clothes. Just so we're clear, baby, you're still the cutest guy I've ever set my eyes on, and I love you, but you're a klutz. You made me love klutzes.
Thank you for taking me out for paintball on our first proper date. Not exactly the most romantic date ever, but it was surely the most memorable. And although we spent two hours getting paint splattered all over our faces and clothes, I will never forget that for the briefest of moment when our body came into contact and our foreheads touched, the thought that flashed across my mind was: This could be the man that I want to spend the rest of my life with. And then you smiled at me, the most heart-meltingly beautiful smile I've ever seen. Oh, just one of the many things I love about you.
Secrets. Before you, I had so many secrets to keep that I often felt like I was on the verge of exploding. Everyone was constantly watching me, the art rebel – but no one truly knew what was going on. Abandoned by alcoholic parents; having to struggle through community college; getting kicked out of college for being in possession of drugs that I didn't even knew existed; working three part-time jobs every single day so I could fund my own education all over again… Throughout the years, you were the only constant remaining, sitting with me through the rollercoaster rides that defined my life without so much as a grumble. You brought colours to my darkness. You stood tall for me to lean on. You helped me let go of fears. Helped me love again.
Girls were always attracted to you. You're quite the charmer, I'll give you that. But I hated it. I hated how girls tend to cling on to your every word, every move. Even the silliest things that you do would elicit a flirtatious hair toss and girlish giggle. It was nauseating to watch. What I do love, though, is the way you would ignore them and keep your eyes trained on mine. I love the fact that when you know girls are staring, or when I'm feeling insecure, you would snake your arms around my waist and pull me closer: A subtle but firm declaration to the world that you belong to me. Your way of making a lady feel loved, baby, is one of the many, many things I love about you.
Even though some girls will never get the hint… (Some girls that go by the name of Claudia. Or Annie. Or Sonia. Just to name a few...)
Thank you for teaching me how to ride a bicycle when everyone has given up on me, including myself. And sorry about that scar on your feet. The fall was unintentional, I swear. And if it makes you feel any better, I think it adds to your appeal. Makes you all… manly and stuff.
My temper and personality usually makes things extraordinarily difficult, especially when we argue. I know. And I'm sorry, baby. Not exactly model girlfriend material. But what I didn't know before I met you was that there would be someone capable of tolerating it, and even to calm me down, no matter how bad things get. Your patience, baby. Especially every week before my menses. The countless Ben and Jerry's, warm bottles and towels on my tummy, soft lullabies, your warm embraces and kisses, your sweet everything. It's unbelievable.
Ah, did I mention all the make-up sex after every heated argument? ;)
Remember that one time on my birthday when I got so mad at you for forgetting it and not doing anything about it until your roommate reminded you to? I will never forget how you spent the whole of the following week trying to make it up to me. Your song recordings (I still hit repeat every time it plays in my car); your failed sketches of me; your little, little gifts. And the fact that you never once forgotten my birthday ever again. The fact that you take me and the things that matter to me so seriously means the world to me.
Really, baby. You're one of a kind. You have to believe me on this one.
I thought I would never be able to find someone who would truly understand me. Before you, no one could understand my fear of fizzy drinks, and how the sound of the fizz gives me goose bumps; no one appreciated my sudden outburst of laughter every time any Taylor Swift's song plays on the radio; no one could stand my temperaments and my hideous mood swings; no one understood my dry, dirty, or any kind of humour at all. Oh, but I found you. You made it. You broke through the wall that divided me from the world. You, and only you, see me for who I truly am. And for that, I'm grateful… I was getting worried that it would have to be Eugene, my best friend's youngest sister's ex-boyfriend's current boyfriend's distant cousin. You know, the one who gave me lizards and centipedes for Valentines. (Kidding baby, you can breathe again.)
Each day I'm with you, life refreshes. I feel renewed, with a surge of energy I never knew I could possess. You make life complete, and my life doesn't begin without you. Maybe ten years ago I would have laughed at half the things I'm writing in this letter, but I mean every single word I say now. All the little things that I love about you. I could go on and on and this letter would never come to an end. But it has to because my fingers are sore and I'm not a born writer. I express myself better in paint rather than in words, and you know that. But baby, all the tiniest things to the big details that add up to the man I love puts a smile on my face every day. I will never let them slip from my mind.
Do you see what I need you to see, baby? You are the first thought that comes to mind each morning, the first person that I want to see. The first person that I want to talk to, and the first and only person that I want to spend the rest of my life with. You are my first, and my only. You will always be. I love you. So much, so much. Thank you for everything, my light.
(Hoping to be) Forever yours and ready to discover more things to love,
He hid his smile as he folded the letter carefully, making sure that it wouldn't crease as he slid it back into its envelope.
They were seating on the couch in his living room, where the lights were low and dim enough so she could mask her expressions better. Just in case.
"So…" She started, leaving her unfinished question hang in the air, expecting him to complete the sentence. The anxiety was killing her. Maybe the move was too bold. Maybe she should have waited. Should have taken her hairdresser's advice and waited.
"Are you proposing to me, baby?" He finally asked, the trace of a smile never leaving his lips. His stormy grey eyes twinkled with humour.
"No, of course not. I'm appalled that you would think of me as someone that desperate to get married." She said dismissively. "No, I was merely… giving you a…"
She nodded, "Yes, a suggestion. That's all."
"So you're not proposing to me?" He asked with a mock-pout. He was teasing her, and it made her blush, regretting the letter with each passing second.
"Nope!" She responded, hoping that she didn't sound as gloomy as she was starting to feel. She looked away and started digging through her bag, looking for her phone so she could distract herself. She heard him sigh audibly.
"Okay. That changes things, then."
She looked up, confused. "How so?"
"Well, if you had proposed to me, I would have said yes. But since it wasn't a proposal, I suppose I'll have to take things into my own hands..." He laced his fingers through hers and led her to the garden outdoor, letting her go only for a moment to turn the lights on.
When the lights flickered to life, she gasped, taking in the view before her.
The pretty string of lights dangling all around them, giving them an illusion of stars; all the paintings that they saw together – that she had wanted to purchase but didn't have the money nor the heart to splurge on; the rose petals arranged artfully into the shape of a heart; and those words… those words formed with black strings were unmistakable.
Marry Me. (PLS)
"I'm really sorry about that. The florist messed up my order and gave me three bags of petals when I ordered six. Had to improvise." He wrinkled his nose in distaste and that was all it took for her to pull him into her embrace.
For a moment, she couldn't find her voice. The garden was transformed into a scene from a fairytale. Her fairytale. It was breathtakingly beautiful.
"It cannot possibly be any more perfect than this, baby." She kissed him and looked around the setting again. The pretty lights, the paintings she love, the petals on the ground, the question, the man who made all this happen.
It was perfect. He was perfect.
"Baby," he starts, before producing a tiny blue box from his pocket and going down on one knee. She could see his hands trembling, and she felt her own shaking, too. He held her hand in his own and kissed it lightly, "Now that you have written me a letter, I feel compelled to rise up to the challenge."
He winked, and she couldn't help but laugh.
"I want… no, I need you to know that everyday spent with you is a blessing. You have saved me in more ways than one, and I will forever be thankful. You gave my life a purpose; made waking up each day a hobby instead of a chore. I know I'm not the most romantic person on the planet. I tend to fall asleep mid-chick flicks, and I never understand why you can't stop reading those damned Nicholas Sparks books. But you make me feel like trying. You make me feel like buying you flowers, to do anything to make you feel loved, to make you feel the way you make me feel every day."
She shook her head, wanting to interject and argue, but he continued.
"I'm not the smartest, nor the most talented, nor the most capable man you've ever met. But you made me feel like I'm worthy. You made me feel the urge to be good enough so I can protect you from the bad side of the world. To man-up for you. I'm not the best looking candidate you can find, and yet the way you look at me make me feel like I'm the only one you see. And that makes me love you even more." He got up from his knees and wiped her tears off with his thumb. He pressed a kiss to her eyelids, pausing momentarily, as though gathering his thoughts.
Then he got down on one knee again.
"Skyler Jane Wilson, I love you. I love you for all the reasons that I could possible love you, and more. I love how we know each other so well that we can complete each other's sentences. I love how you added in that little treasure hunting element in your letter – the treasure which I've discovered within seconds, by the way. I love no matter how bad our arguments are, or how far we've drifted away from each other, we always find our way back to love. I love the way you smile at me each morning before we kiss, the way you almost always sashay across the bedroom into the shower in nothing but my jersey – just to tease me. I love how you always know what and when to say things, and when to give me my own moment of peace. I love how you always support me and my work, no matter how tough things are or how foul my mood becomes. I love you for loving me. For accepting my flaws and weaknesses. For not trying to remold me into something different. For being you."
He opened the box and produced the ring - the exact ring they both saw on the catalogue the other day. The ring which she spent a second longer fawning over. She never knew he noticed but he did. Only he could notice little things about her like that. That thought brought fresh tears to her eyes.
"Skyler, would you marry and complete me?"
She smiled through her tears and nodded.
He exhaled a breath that he never knew he was holding and flashed his trademark smile. He got up from his earlier position and scooped her into his arms, causing her to erupt into fits of laughter.
"And just for the record, I think you're smart. And talented. And romantic. And capable. And patient. And gorgeous. And perfect. You're perfect for me. Don't you dare forget that."
He grinned and stuck his tongue out playfully before sliding the ring into her finger.
A perfect fit. They both smiled.
Now life starts.
Did you find the hidden message in the letter?
Additional hint: first letters are very important. ;)
Wow. It's been too long.
This story popped out of the blue in the middle of the night. I spent two hours getting most of it out, but spent the next two days trying to get the two last paragraphs out of my system. Writer's block is a biatch.
So... hello again. :)
Just to clarify something. The letter would prolly appear rough and her thoughts would prolly seem to be all over the place. It irked me a lot at first. But then again, she isn't a writer to begin with. So she did what she knew best - to just spill the first thing that comes to mind.
This is another one of those mega cheesy and cliched one-shots, but it's a start.
So much has changed over the years. I need some time to get back up in writing again.
For those who have been reading my stories previously and you're still reading this right now, thank you so much.
If this is your first time reading my stories... hey there. I hope this wasn't too bad for you. ;)