One-Hundred-Thousand Puzzle Pieces
I can tell you how many freckles are allotted in her rosy countenance with no hesitation.
167. I know because every time I'd wake up before her, I'd stay awake and gently observe the beauty sleeping in my arms. A peaceful smile grazing over her soft features and her cheeks filled with a pink twinge but her freckles, her adorable freckles stand out the most.
I know all her quirks, all her likes, dislikes better than I know myself. She bites her nails whenever she's nervous; a gesture she finds revolting, but I find it cute. She has to drink a cup of chamomile tea before going to bed or else she won't fall asleep. I know because she always asked me if I had some all those times she unexpectedly came over with cheeks drenched from tears, and I always had a full box just in case. She can't stand blistering and obnoxious music. She prefers mellow rock and ballads, and sometimes I'd catch her listening to Rossini and Mozart. But she makes an exception with my music and states, "It's not as bad as others." She loves art, and on her spare time she works on her unfinished flowers that she began painting ages ago on the walls of her room. And her fondest wish is to travel to Europe and tour all the museums.
She prefers the silence; she finds peace in it. Sometimes I'd find her curled up in her couch, gently laying there and a serene smile tugging her roseate lips. And sometimes, when we're both lying down, she'd tell me to shut up and she'd snuggle in closer to me. Her head lightly resting on my chest and her hands clutching my shirt, and that calm smile appears. Those are the moments I treasure the most, and she too, because we both hold on tight to each other. She loves the silence…
Every year, on November 5th, she'd buy a bouquet of daisies, her mother's favourite and a bottle of red wine for her father. Every year, on the same date, she'd wear something with the color yellow. Her diary in her hand, and the bouquet and bottle on the other, she'd walked her way to the cemetery. And she'd sit there for hours, the whole day even, silently staring at her parents' tombstone. She wouldn't cry, or speak. She'd simply sit there, and let the silence captivate her entirely.
She loves the silence because it's the only time where she feels her parent's presence. I know because through screams, insults, protests and a slap on the face she told me. I know the story of how her parents died in a car accident. Her purely intoxicated father driving the car, and her mother yelling relentlessly at him. They both didn't make it, they died right on the hospital bed with a ten-year-old Loren weeping silently and holding their hands.
She tells me that she can feel them; their ghosts' lingers with her. And sometimes, pure sadness over powers her and she succumbs to the floor and cries. Silently. Her body whimpers and I am quick to pull her into an embrace, clutching her tightly against me. She loves the silence, but she hates it too. And when it gets too overwhelming, she tells me to sing, so I can fill in the gaps of the loneliness she had to endure for ten years. And I'd whisper "I love you" over and over again.
She seems quiet, but I know her better than that. Once you've over looked the oversized jacket and the lengthy book she always has, you discover how loud she can be. Her loud remarks, her pout whenever she does something wrong and her soft, melodic voice are the ones that fill my home and make it feel complete. Every single day I call her Beautiful. She would twitch and quickly tell me to stop calling her that. I don't stop, I adore seeing that blush she tries to disguise every time I tell her, "Beautiful, kiss me."
I know her better than she will ever know, and sometimes it scares me how much in love I am with her. She too, she feels it. And even though she tells me she hates me, I fall more in love with her.
She tells me how she hates me, but I know that's not true. Because every time I pull her into a kiss, she's left breathless. Because even though she scolds me, I can still see the red hue fixed on her cheeks. Every time I'd visit her at 3 in the morning, she always lets me in her home and her thoughts. I'm the first she always comes to when she needs to vent because she knows I will always be there for her. And though she tells me she hates me, actions speak louder than words. Her sweet caresses when we're making love; her soft kisses trailing down from my lips to my abdomen, her gentle moans and the screams of my name leave a burning sensation within me. And when we're lying down, glistening bodies pressed against the other, I could hear her say, I love you.
Every time I tell her I love you, she'd shake her head. "How can you love someone so dysfunctional and insane like me?" She would ask. "I love you." I'd repeat. "No, you don't. You like the idea of loving me, but you don't." And 1,400 rejections later, we're still here.
I sighed and gradually sat down on the grass. My gaze shifted from the small box I was holding on my hand to the full moon illuminating the night sky. The stars were out, and I could feel a cool breeze softly dance around me. I inhaled and rolled my head backwards.
Today marks our five year anniversary. I chuckled mockingly to all of those who said we wouldn't even make it a month. This is to all of those who told me to give up on the quiet girl I met on top of this hill. I grinned at the memory of the first time I laid eyes on her. She had a scowl on her face, and furiously clutched her book. She was adorable with her jacket reaching a little below her thighs, her pink sweatpants and her thick glasses which I loved because they enlarged her hazel eyes for me. God, how much I love them. I let out a suspire. It took me 2 and a half months and a ton of begging to get her to finally go on a date with me. And after our first date, she reluctantly went out with me on our second date. And ten dates after that, I stole her first kiss. She was fuming but finally gave in.
"Hey, it's kinda cold in here. Maybe if you could just-" I caught her off with a kiss. She smiled with a blush decorating her face. "I'm still a little cold-" Again. "Hmm-" Again.
I gave her ten kisses more after that. It was sweet, just like her. My gaze drifted back to the box and I smiled. I've waited too long for this. I've kept her waiting for far too long. It's now or never, well… I was going to ask her either way but now's the perfect time.
"Alright Duran, I'm here. What do you want?"
I quickly shifted my gaze to look at the brunette beauty looking straight at me. The smile instantly widened and I rapidly stood up, clutching the box tightly. I watched as she sighed and walked over to me. She wrapped her arms around me and I draped mine around her petite waist. She smiled and closed her eyes expectantly. I chuckled lightly and gave her a chaste kiss. "Hmm, just one?" She asked. I raised an eyebrow at her and she pouted. I complied and kissed her, gently biting her lower lip in the process. "You're awfully happy today." I stated as she pulled away. "Well, yeah." She hummed. She bit her lip and inhaled. "You're beautiful." I said. She furrowed her eyebrows together and I watched as her cheeks turned scarlet. I smirked; I still have that effect on her.
My mind detracted to the black box encased by my hand. I sighed and scratched the back of my head. Nerves finally kicked in. I closed my eyes for a few seconds before I looked at her. Her hazel orbs gleamed and a smile tugged. "The first day I met you, you kicked me out of this spot. Remember? Then I came the next day and you were here, you kicked me out again. But I came the next day, and all the ones following after that. For 76 days straight I came here, exactly at 5 p.m. to get the chance to see you and each of those 76 days I thought, "Maybe today will be the day that she doesn't kick me out and finally goes out with me." 76 days later, you did. 76 days later, I was falling in love with you. And the first time I kissed you, I realized how much I did. Maybe, I was in love with you way before you said yes… Maybe I had already fallen in love. But at the moment, I knew what I was in for. And each day I spent with you, I fell deeper." She bit her lips and I held our gaze. "My feelings haven't changed for you. Five years later, I'm still deeply in love with you, Loren Tate."
"Eddie-"
"I love you. Always have, always will. And you could be denying it; you could be saying how crazy I am. Or you could be shouting how much you hate me, but I will still love you."
And now I know. I know that she's the one I want to wake up every morning by my side for the rest of my life.
"I have never loved someone as much as I love you."
"You're insane."
"Maybe, but I'm crazy for you. And here I stand-" I gently took the box out and opened it, and slowly got on one knee. "-on one knee." I soughed and Loren walked forward in astonishment. Her mouth slightly opened, and her eyes were glossy. "Eddie-"
"Loren Tate, marry me?"
She didn't say anything. I sighed and kept my gaze fixated on her. She pressed her lips together and her expression was filled with conflict and confusion. I smiled warmly. "I don't care how long it'll take for you to say yes. I'll keep trying. I don't care if it'll take 20 years, I will always keep trying. Every single day. It doesn't matter how long it takes you. I'm not going anywhere and I'm willing to wait for you because you're worth everything to me. I'm not ready to lose you. Never, ever will I let you go. So…"
I smiled and tears were gently rolling down her rosy cheeks. Her body trembling. "Will you marry-"
"Yes."
My heart was pounding, and I'm sure any minute it'll beat right out of my chest. She was quickly nodding her head and my smile widened. She said yes! I rapidly placed the ring on her finger, my hands shaking out of excitement. And swiftly, I had her in my arms. I held on to her and she sheathed her arms around my neck and held tight. I carefully placed her down, and kissed her over and over again. Feeling the sweetness of her lips. She cupped my cheeks and tears were streaming down her face.
Not tears of sadness or grief, but of joy where she let them fall freely, without the attempt of wiping them away. She looked at me and I wiped a tear away. She breathed heavily.
"I love you."
She said for the first time. I nodded and smiled. "So 1,401 'I love you's' later, you finally say it back?" She chuckled breathless, "I love you." She said again with assurance. And I pulled her into an embrace. And like always, she held on tight.
Because she's a Jigsaw puzzle of one-hundred-thousand pieces that I wouldn't mind spending my whole life trying to put together.
"I love you."
A one-shot requested by Marirosa with the song "Marry You" by Bruno Mars. I know it's not actually the mood of the song but I found myself writing this regardless of my attempt of lighting up the mood of the story. The proposal did not come out as good as I wanted to, but that'll do. And I hope you guys liked this one shot. I know, I'm really horrible with time. I'm trying to get all the requests but one at a time will do. Please review, follow, favourite and I'll get right back to you :).