Part Four of Your Story

It was a black day, the kind of day that starts most tragic stories, but this isn’t a sob story. This is a love story.

It was a black day, the day he stole my thunder.

It had just finished storming horribly, the sky angry at something, obviously, the way the thunder shook my house. Mike still jumped just a little when he heard thunder like that; just like when we were kids I’d hold him tight and tell him it was going to be okay.

We were in my backyard, ankle deep in mud and puddles and muck, but I didn’t care because the air was light and happy and it smelled like freedom.

“Brad, look,” Mike said, pointing up at the sky.

There was a rainbow, a full one, that stretched from one horizon to the other, and as I was gawking at it I felt Mike wrap his arm around my waist and pull our hips together. I turned to him and his eyes were sparkling. These kind of moments always reminded me how in love I was, how much I loved Mike, and how lucky I am that he loves me just as much.

He seemed to be thinking the same thing because he smiled, his beautiful eyes twinkling, and I couldn’t help but lean in and kiss him as tenderly as possible. We stayed like that for a few minutes, just being close and listening to the birds chirp and smelling the rain that had passed. The clouds threatened rain again, but I think it would’ve made the moment that much more perfect.

I pulled away and he mouthed “I love you”, and it was then that I realized it was the perfect time.

When we were younger, before or even during we became an item, we talked about getting married and the perfect proposal: planned, but with an ounce of spontaneity. Romantic, but not overly romantic. Cheesy, but not obnoxiously so. Perfect, with a hint of flaws, just like our love.

I bought the ring a few years ago when we were in Italy. Beautiful country, and beautiful rings, I found. It was silver, a little sparkle but nothing glitzy or glammy. Something he would be proud of wearing, something I’d be proud of showing him and putting it on his finger.

The thunder hit again and there was a flash of lightning, and I was going to use that as an excuse to go inside so I could sneak the ring from my candy drawer to my pocket. Just as I opened my mouth, he stepped away from me and dug into his left back pocket and knelt on the ground, melting into it because of the mud. My mind quit working and I stood there like an idiot, in disbelief.

His knee sloshed in the mud and he grinned, shrugging carelessly. He took my shaking hands and my stomach lurched. “Brad, I love you more than anything else in this entire world. I know you wanted to propose, but I know you like being surprised and you like when I take control sometimes. So…” He held out the ring so I could see it, his face red, his hand shaking quite a bit, probably from nerves. It was a beautiful ring, very similar to the one I’d gotten him, in fact. All I could do was hold his hand and listen to him. “Bradford Philip Delson, will you marry me?”

I choked a bit and sank down to my knees, holding the ring in my hand. He cleared his throat and I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him, pulling his body against mine, and nodded my head, hoping he got the message. He pulled away and put the ring on my finger, kissing it softly, and I pulled him up and kissed the side of his mouth before running sloppily to the house. Within a minute I’d gotten the ring and was back out to him, where he was standing like he didn’t know what was going on. I didn’t either.

I held it up to him and he laughed, and so did I, because we both were going to do it without the other realizing. I slipped it on my finger and cupped his cheek with my left hand, making sure to run my ring over his stubble, and mumbled into his lips, “Michael Kenji Shinoda, will you marry me?”

He nodded, his face growing serious, and ran his hands through my hair, causing me to shiver. “Yes, I will,” he said and kissed me. I could feel the love and passion in him and I returned it wholeheartedly.

It started to rain, the sky darkening up, and instead of being depressing, it was utterly beautiful. Within a few minutes we had already been soaked all the way through our clothes, but I didn’t give a shit, just pulled him closer, running my tongue along his casually.

“Take me to our place, Brad,” he hushed against my lips, his finger stroking my cheek, his eyes searching mine.

I smiled at him, my hands on his lower back, holding his body against mine. “We’re already there, love.”


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