"Oh, God, I am so sorry!" says the voice of the boy who just bumped into you, spilling the coffee you were carrying all over you and the New York sidewalk.
You sigh and bend down to pick up the cup and throw it in the trashcan.
"That’s okay, I always hated this shirt anyways," you say, squeezing some of the coffee out of your white work blouse.
You look up at the boy who bumped into you. He has brown, almost blond, hair, perfect cheekbones, and hazelly eyes. He’s a few inches taller than you, and he’s wearing a jean jacket, with a Ramones shirt underneath, and black jeans on.
He looks at you, staring into your eyes and smiling, showing off his dimples.
"I can buy you some more, if you want," he says, clearly hopeful.
You laugh a little at his attempt. “I actually better be getting to work, I’m gonna be late, especially now that I have to go home and change,” you say back cheekily.
"Aw man, I’m sorry, this is my fault. Here, don’t go home and change, you can wear my jacket over," he says, pulling his jacket off and handing it to you, revealing large muscles.
His hand is still outstretched, offering you the jacket. You are really tempted to take it, just because this is the most cliche meeting ever, and would make for a really cute story some day. You smile a little smile and take the jacket. You can’t believe the classic “coffee-spill in the street” thing is happening to you.
"How am I supposed to get this back to you?"
"Well, I guess I will just have to give you my number," he says, taking out a pen and grabbing your hand. He writes his name and number on your palm, releases your hand, winks, and walks right on past you.
6 Months Later:
"Ashton! Hurry up! We’re going to be late!" you shout from the front door, zipping up your boots.
He runs up to the door, sliding the last few feet on his socks, grabbing your waist and stepping up close to you, kissing you softly, too softly, teasing you.
He throws on his shoes, and opens the door for you. You two are on your way to dinner with your parents.
After a long cab ride of you trying to calm his nerves, you and Ashton arrive at the Italian bistro, walking in to see your parents sitting at a table on the other side of the restaurant. You squeeze Ashton’s hand and lead him across the room, sitting down on the side of the table that’s unoccupied.
Ashton introduces himself to your parents, smiling the whole time. You put your hand on his thigh to provide comfort. He rests his hand on top of yours, occasionally looking over at you and showing you his beautiful dimples.
"So, Ashton," your father says to him, changing the joking, light hearted tone of the conversation to a more serious one.
"Yes, sir?" Ashton says, turning his focus away from you to your father.
And there your dad goes, asking the most basic dad question of all time:
"So what exactly are your intentions with my daughter?"
"Really, Dad?" you say, raising your eyebrows at him.
"What? It’s a fair question!" he says to you, and then turns his eyes back to Ashton.
You feel Ashton squeeze your hand, still on his thigh.
"Well, sir, to be perfectly frank, I intend to marry your daughter."
Silence. Just silence falls over the table, Ashton with a smug look on his face, your parents an astonished look, and you a blank one.
Ashton looks over at you to see your shy smile and eyes wide with wonder. You two have never talked about where your relationship is going, it all still seemed new, but there’s a strange comfort to knowing just how serious Ashton is about your relationship.
In silent response, you twist your hand so that your fingers are now intertwined, showing him your reply without having to say anything.
1 year after that:
You and Ashton are walking down the street in Italy, smelling the mixture of a hundred different smells from the street vendors around you.
Ashton’s arm is around your waist, holding you close. Although you two decided to leave the villa just for a casual evening walk, he starts to lead you purposefully into a street that opens up into a park at the end. You pull away from his waist hold and lace your fingers with his.
"So… where are we going?" you ask him as you check the time. 8:30, but the sun is still out, the beginning of summer starting to take effect on day length.
"Just thought this park was pretty when I was here a few days ago," he says.
You look ahead to see a big hill, blocking the sun, with wooden stairs leading up to it. There’s a huge tree off to one side on the top of the hill, making a perfect scene, so naturally, you pause to take a picture of the landscape.
"Want to go up there?" Ashton asks you hopefully.
"Sure, it looks gorgeous," you respond.
As you two walk towards the wooden stairs, he swings your laced fingers back and forth, making you smile and look down at the ground.
As you reach the top of the hill, you see a picnic blanket laid out with a picnic basket.
"Why… what on Earth could that be doing there?" Ashton says, faking a gasp.
You stop walking and pull Ashton right up close in front of you, placing your hands on his shoulder/neck area, and feeling his breath on you as he places his hands on your hips.
You tip toe a little to reach up and kiss him. He pulls you into him as you get more into the kiss, finally pulling away and going over to sit on the picnic blanket. Ashton follows you and sits next to you, putting his arm around you.
You look off into the distance, into the Italian sunset, the sky clear with the exception of a few small clouds.
Ashton reaches forwards and grabs the picnic basket, opening the top, reaching in and digging around for something.
"Ash, as much as I would love to share a picnic right now, we just are, like 20 minutes ago," you say.
"That’s okay," he says, placing the picnic next to him and closing it. "Let me show you something," he says, standing up and offering you his hands to help you up.
You take his hands and stand up. He leads you over to the side of the hill so that you’re both looking out over the city, the sun setting in the distance. He points somewhere in the city;
"Look. See it?" he says to you.
You squint but still have no idea what he’s pointing to. “Uh… no? What am I looking for?”
He stops pointing and describes it.
"The white thing… look down there… near that red building… it’s kind of small… but if you look closely…"
You keep squinting, trying to find the red building and the white thing, but have no idea where you’re even supposed to be looking.
Ashton isn’t next to you anymore. You start to turn around to see Ashton.
"Ashton, I still don’t kno-"
You finish turning to see Ashton on one knee, looking up at you, the light of the sun set glinting in his dirty blond hair.
Your eyes widen and you can feel yourself blushing.
"(Y/N), let me start by saying I love you. I knew from the first moment I bumped into you that I wanted to marry you. And here we are, a year and half later, and, at least for me, nothing’s changed," he reaches into his pocket and takes out a velvet box. "So, would you, please, for the love of all that is good and holy, do me the absolute honor of marrying me?"
He opens the box, revealing a thin, silver band with a diamond perfectly set on top. A simple design, the kind you have always admired. He knows you so well.
"Yes, of course I will, Ash," you say, smiling sweetly at him.
He lets out a big breath and stands up, fumbling to get the ring out of the box and onto your finger.
You put your arms around his neck, squeezing tightly, feeling his arms wrap firmly around your back and pick you off the ground. He spins you around, faster and faster. You can tell he’s enjoying himself, he’s giggling into your hair. He releases you, but as soon as your feet hit the ground, he pulls you in again for another kiss, placing his large hands on the back of your neck.
"I love you," he says as he pulls away.
"Yeah, you’re okay, I guess," you say back with a smile.
1 month later:
"Hey, let’s do something tonight," Ashton says, pausing the TV and looking at you.
"Like what?" you say back, curious as to what he has in mind.
"Like… get married."
"Wait, what?" you say, taken aback.
"Why don’t we just get married tonight?"
"Well… because… I thought… don’t you want a big wedding?"
"No, not really. If you do, it’s not big deal, we can wait, I just don’t want to wait any longer to be married to you," he says, shrugging. "We have our marriage license, anyways."
You turn your head and look down at your engagement ring. This seemed so much less complicated, and would be so simple and easy.
"Okay, let’s do it," you say, smiling.
4 months later:
You hear the front door open and shut, and the sound of Ashton’s shoes coming off and hitting the floor.
"Baby?" he calls out through the house.
"In the bedroom!" you call from the bed. You’re too comfy to move, wearing Ashton’s boxers and old t-shirt.
He appears in the door way, gazing at you in the pale light of the gray outside sky. He hops onto the bed with you as you lock your phone and toss it softly to one side.
You smile at what you’re planning.
"Hey, babe, would you go get me some floss from the bathroom?" you say casually.
"Yeah, sure," he says, getting off the bed and walking into the bathroom.
You wait and listen.
"Oh my fucking God. Are you serious?! Is this a prank?!" he says, practically shouting and holding something in his hand, walking out of the bathroom quickly and staring at you. "If this is a prank, it’s mean and wrong! Very wrong!"
He holds up the positive pregnancy test you purposely left on the bathroom counter for him to find and points to it dramatically.
"Is this serious? Or are you fucking with me?"
You grin at him. “It’s serious,” you say. “I’m pregnant.”
He drops the pregnancy test, jumps on the bed and grabs your face, kissing you all over.
Sorry this is kinda weird, not sure how I feel about it, just thought I would try something new. :) have an amazing night and remember you are all special and wonderful!