Against Your Lips

The first time you heard- well saw really- him say those words, you were surprised. A bouquet of flowers suddenly blocked the screen of your laptop with a card on it. There those words were written. You smiled and took the bouquet from whoever was holding it (you already knew it's him. He's the only one cheesy enough to do this) and stood up from your seat. You turned around and saw him in a white shirt under an open plaid shirt with those ratty jeans you despised and loved at the same time. You gave him a kiss and sighed those words back against his lips.

The second time you heard him say those words, you got into a big fight. You didn't even want to answer your phone, much less see him. So when your voicemail came up and heard him talk, and that regret and remorse in his voice, you could feel all the repressed feelings you kept ever since both of you fought over what to eat. You brushed the tears away from your eyes and went to the door, and as expected he was there drenched in rain water. You didn't care. You flung yourself to him and mumbled the same words to his wet chest.

The third time he told you that, it was through a letter. It was a surprise for you actually. From all the endless bills and junk mail, there was a blue envelope. It was sent anonymously so you kind of wondered who it could be. When you went inside your apartment, you quickly decided to open it, and read the letter written in the best smelling paper you've ever smelled, which also happened to be blue. You couldn't keep the smile from forming on your lips as you read through it, and by the end of it, you already know who it came from.

When he got home that night, you greeted him with a kiss and told him what a dork he is. You didn't tell him that you thought it was pretty sweet that he would waste stamps on you, nor did you tell him you think you're the luckiest woman alive because you have him.

The fourth time he told you he loves you, you hit your knee on the coffee table. See, you didn't know what came over him that he decided that both of you needed to dance to that cheesy love song that gave you the tingles whenever you listen to it (kinikilig, your sister would say). Considering how the both of you have two left feet, it was no debate how dancing was a really bad idea. You never could say no to him, so you were roped into dancing anyway. Through clumsy steps, ungraceful twirls, and a few squeals and chuckles, you managed to hit your knee. He only laughed at you and said those words again. You felt your heart soar and the frown on your face from hitting yourself turn into a radiant smile. You hit him in return, but you kissed him right after and said that you love him too.

The fifth time you heard him say it again, you had food poisoning. You didn't even know you were allergic to lobsters. Growing up Asian, you ate all kinds of seafood, but you never ate lobsters. When both of you decided to try out the new seafood place by your apartment building, you also decided it was a nice time to try and eat lobsters as well. Bad decision.

You should have known when you took that first bite. You completely ignored the itchiness that started to take over you as you ate, but no, you wanted to eat. So after a few minutes of lobster eating, you started to feel nauseous and had to go to the Emergency Room. He was with you every single moment of it. Both of you thought you were going to die, and he was holding your hand so tightly you hand was getting numb. You didn't know you were holding his just as tight. You looked directly into his eyes and saw the grief and sorrow on them and you were pretty sure you were the same as well. He was repeating it over and over again. I love you. I love you. Please don't go. Please don't leave me. I love you, please.

The doctor came and said that you are not leaving anybody (it wasn't even food poisoning).

The sixth time (or was it the eight, you don't remember anymore) he said he loves you, you barely heard him. From all that fiasco with being food poisoned (it was not food poisoning. You really got to remember that), it left both of you unnaturally fatigued. After quickly changing into some sleep ware, the two of you went straight to bed. You didn't even feel his arms wrap around you and you barely felt him bury his face in your hair. You only managed to feel the mumbling of his lips against your head, and you turned to face him in wonder. No such luck though, he was already out. You sighed, but smiled as you looked down on him. With a kiss on his forehead, you returned back to sleep content.

You found a velvet box with a card under it on your desk at work. The first thing that came into your mind was the person who put it there must have thought yours was another person's. If he was proposing, you would have picked up a few signals. You're a pretty perceptive person in your opinion. So when one of your co-workers decided that it would be fun to tease you and convinced you to open the card, you rolled your eyes and set your bag on the desk. You tried to ignore it as much as you can, but you were always a curious person and gave in to your curiosity. At first, you felt really bad because what if it's not for you? Not only did you ruin it for the person who was going to propose, but you embarrassed yourself as well.

You slowly opened the card, dreading what you will find. What you found, though, was the biggest shock of your life.

I love you. Marry me?

Suddenly, music filled the office. You recognized it as the same cheesy song both of you danced to, the same one you hit your knee with, and the same one that gave you the tingles. Your co-workers ushered you out of your desk and there you saw him with that white shirt under an open plaid shirt and that blasted jeans. The whole office was with him. There was even a banner behind him that said: He loves you. Marry him?

He was looking at you with those eyes that held all kinds of emotion. You could see worry, anxiousness, nervousness, fright, joy, pride, and love. He took a step towards you and you felt your eyes water as your hands covered your mouth. When he stopped right in front you, he rubbed the back of his head sheepishly.

"I did it right then," he remarked. "I didn't expect you to catch you off guard."

"You idiot," you sobbed.

He chuckled and took your hands in his, rubbing circles around them soothingly to at least stop you from bawling your eyes out and sobbing. When you were pretty presentable (no more hysterical sniffing and calling him idiot a couple of times), he looked at you again.

"I love you," he said. "Marry me?"

He basically told you what was in the card, but you thought it felt so much different hearing it coming from him. It felt more real, more alive, more amazing to hear it through your own ears.

You took one of your hands from his, and noticed the alarm that entered in his face. You ignored it and instead, rubbed your nose with it as you chuckled.

"I love you. Of course."

The grin on his face was the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. The cheer of the office crowd fell from your deaf ears as he took you in his arms and twirled you up high (or as high as the office ceiling would let you), all the while laughing as he let you down.

He kissed you and sighed those words against your lips.