Inspired by the LJ Writer's Block Question of the Day:Sometimes it's the thought that counts, and other times it's the thing itself. What's the best gift you've ever received, thoughtful or otherwise?
Up until a moment ago, Taylor would have always said that the best gift she had ever received was the specially bound book of French love poems she had translated. The gift, awkwardly given, had been thoughtful, more thoughtful than anything her French husband who always professed to be deeply in love with, and charmed by, her had ever given her. The book sat now, as it always did, in plain sight in the living room, a constant reminder of a time when she had been loved by a broken, but recovering, young man. Now, however, the book of French poems lay forgotten as it was being quickly and irrevocably eclipsed by her new favorite gift of all time.
"It's too much, isn't it? Too soon? I shouldn't have, I mean, I want to but if you're not ready and I know this probably wasn't how you imagined it but-" The flood of words, 'he always babbles when he's nervous, especially about some romantic gesture,' Taylor thought with a smile, was stopped by her lips on his. The kiss was gentle, a promise of more kisses to come, and when she pulled away she saw that he was smiling too. "So is that a yes?"
"Of course, you, I can't think of anything I want more." Taylor, for once in her life, didn't need words. The moment wasn't extravagant or planned out; it was just the perfect time for two people who had grown and changed but still loved each other throughout it all. Lounging on their couch in their living room, watching the latest anime release and just being together - it was just as good a moment as any other for a marriage proposal. "This is the best gift I've ever gotten."
"Even better than the book? Because that took a lot more thought and effort," he teased, comfortable in the knowledge of his permanent place in her future to mention a sometimes rocky past.
"Much better than the book - as I recall, you weren't even going to give me it until I practically forced it off of you."
"I would have given it to you…sometime." He kissed her nose then, a sweet gesture which would have surprised her years ago but which felt like second nature now.
The break up had not been easy, on either of them, but it had been for the best in the long run. Taylor pursued her dreams in France while Ryan headed off to Berkeley. And three years later, when she returned to California, and Berkeley, for graduate school - was there any other school to choose but Berkeley - it felt like it was finally the right moment for them. They had both changed, grown up some would say, but the change hadn't pulled them apart. Instead, the two broken young people were now two secure adults and falling in love again, although Taylor always told anyone who would listen that they had never fallen out of love, had been easy and inevitable.
"Taylor Townsend Atwood."
"Quite the mouthful - you know, you don't have to take my last name, if you don't want to. I'm pretty sure I learned something about how that represses women or something in my women's lib class"
"Ryan Atwood! You and I both know you only took that class to meet girls and, of course, I'm going to become an Atwood, I've only been waiting seven years."
"Taylor Townsend: Never give up, never surrender. And that's why I love you."
"Ryan Atwood: A man of few words unless he's bumbling his way through a romantic gesture. And that's why I love you."
Yes, Taylor was positive that the book of French poems had been replaced. The engagement ring that was currently sparkling on her finger, and the love of the man who had given it to her, now topped the list as her favorite gift of all time. And she wouldn't change a thing.
