It was exactly one month ago that they had met each other. They were both uncertain; not knowing what "it" was exactly. He, Atticus Finch: a 41-year old lawyer from Maycomb. She, Jean Graham, a 26-year old woman, girl maybe even. They had met in a train going from the west to the centre of Montgomery. The seat next to Atticus had been one of the few left. He'd been reading the paper at first, but they soon got into conversation, and when they had arrived, they stood at the station talking for while. Atticus had invited her to eat with him the day after, and so she did. They laughed together, took long walks together, but that was all there was to it.
Today, he'd asked her to go out for dinner somewhere just outside of Mongomery. Jean had walked to the hotel he stayed in, and they had driven together to a small, hilly town. After their dinner, they walked through a small park. The sun was settling and it was getting dusk.
"Are you warm enough?" Atticus asked after a while. She nodded, smiling at him, but shivered at the same time. "You're shivering," Atticus stated. "Should we go back?" Jean shook her head. "I'm fine, really." Atticus smiled at her. Hesitatingly and uncertain, he wrapped his arm loosely around her shoulders.
They stood still at a small paved piece with a bench and a wicket, like you were on a balcony. When looking down, one would see Montgomery in the distance, surrounded by fields and colouring woods. Atticus sat down at the bench, while she walked towards the wicket and admired the view. She turned around. "Atticus, it's beautiful." He got up and stood beside her. "It is," he said. He uncertainly moved his arm around her, this time wrapping it around her waist. Jean raised her head and smiled at him, feeling heat radiate from his body.
Atticus let his eyes wander across the view, than back at the woman standing next to him. She didn't notice him looking at him, which gave Atticus the oppertunity to study her closely. Her dark blonde hair ended just beneath her shoulders, and although she continuously swept them back, there were two strands of hair that framed her her oval face. There was a small birthmark just under her left ear. When she laughed, there would appear a dimple on the same side of her face. Atticus loved the idea of that he knew of that characteristic while he couldn't see it right now. He moved his eyes to the right, towards her lips. She had full voluminous lips, which she lightly protruded when thinking about something. Before he could continue his gaze downwards, she turned her head and looked him in the eye. She opened her mouth to speak, but Atticus cut her off before she could say something. "Jean..." he whispered, "I love you." He bend down and pressed his lips onto hers.
The kiss lasted until they were out of breath. After their lips parted, Jean turned around and stared across the wide view. Atticus held the railing with both hands and looked onto the pavement. Finally, he turned around, but didn't look at Jean yet. "Jean, I'm sorry," he said. "I shouldn't have done this. I'm sorry." He didn't know what to expect, but was sure she'd be angry with him. He'd ruined the friendly, albeit odd relationship they were having. Jean was silent, however. All she did was place her hand over his, which rested on the stone. "Did you mean what you said?" she asked after a while. Atticus still didn't dare looking into her eyes, but nodded slowly. "Yes," he whispered. He felt ridiculous. Jean's grip on his hand tightened. "Why do you regret saying it then?" Atticus looked at her. Her eyes were wide, a slight, insecure smile on her face. "Because, Atticus...I love you too." Atticus looked at her in disbelief, then his face broke into wide grin and he wrapped his arms around her. They stood there a long time, kissing, until Jean finally said: "Atticus, it's getting dark."
They saw each other almost every day after this. Usually, they met after Atticus was finished with his legislature duties and spent long evenings in restaurants or walking through Montgomery. They felt more and more comfortable around each other and became more of a couple each day.
It was a big shock for Jean then, that Atticus about two weeks later took both her hands and told her he'd have to go back to Maycomb the week after. She looked up at him and asked: "Why?" Atticus smiled. "I can't stay here forever, sweet. I got a business to run. But I don't want to leave you, Jean." Angrily, she pulled her hands out of his. "Why couldn't you tell me this before?" She turned around and put her fist against her mouth. Atticus took her shoulders and turned her towards him again. He looked at her watery eyes and smiled. "Honey...don't cry now. You're right, I should have told you earlier. I'd like...well, I wanted to ask you..." She looked at him furiously. "What, Atticus? You can't be serious...I was in love with you! I really was, I thought we were...I don't know...become a family, get married...well that's ridiculous of course. Go back, Atticus. Find some woman of your age, who..." She was stopped by Atticus who wrapped his arms around her firmly and pressed her against him. "Honey, please," he said, kissing the top of her head. Jean tried to wriggle out of his arms, but he held her closely. "Honey, I love you too. All those things you just said, I want as well. I don't want a woman of my own age, I want you. What I wanted to ask you is...would you come with me? Later..." He let her go. Jean looked up at him, not knowing if she should still be angry. "Atticus," she whispered, but he put a finger on her lips. "Jean," he said, "I have never felt for anyone what I feel for you. I love you with all of my heart. I..." Suddenly, he sunk down on one knee. Jean put her hands in front of her mouth and blinked her eyes. "Jean," he said, "would you marry me?" She laughed. "Oh Atticus...yes! Yes!"
AN: I know I already wrote about Atticus's proposal, but I really wanted to do another one! I hope you liked this small one shot.