"When you are old and grey and full of sleep,

And nodding by the fire, take down this book,

And slowly read, and dream of the soft look

Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;

How many loved your moments of glad grace,

And loved your beauty with love false or true,

But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,

And loved the sorrows of your changing face;

And bending down beside the glowing bars,

Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled

And paced upon the mountains overhead

And hid his face amid a crowd of stars."

W.B. Yeats

The more she cried, the less she knew how to make sense of what exactly was going on.

Why she decided to throw Christian out of the bedroom and thrust his pillow in his face before closing the door, she had no idea. She still pondered opening the door to leave his pajamas and his favorite blanket, but the fear he might still be outside, waiting for her to change her mind, prevented it.

"Let me in, Anastasia!" His voice prompted her tears to fall from her wide eyes. Her hand traced them and she stared at her wet fingers with surprise. When did I start crying, she wondered to herself.

Looking around the room, she noticed everything that was so him, so naturally elegant and cool and collected. She had no place being there. To be fair, she had no place being in his life at all. And remembering his pending proposal, she reminded herself of exactly why she was not the woman for him. If it had been just a matter of belonging to different worlds, she'd probably get over it a little bit more quickly.

However, their love was based on their hurried passion, the curiosity for each other, on her innocence and, ultimately, on his reawakening after enduring almost a lifetime of abuse. If he'd been more… together, more whole, less victim of the evils he encountered in the world, he'd have seen her and gotten on with his life, unmarked by her presence, untouched by her enchantment with him.

Breaking her out of her thought process, he forced his way into the room. Of course, Taylor probably had ways of unlocking every single door in the apartment, she vaguely mused, watching him bolt into the room.

"Just what the HELL is going on, Ana?!" He shouted, the vein in his temple protruding just a bit with his fury. "I'm not going to be locked out of my own room just because we're fighting! I'm not going to sleep in that couch so you better think twice before trying that again!"

"I never want you to go away… away from me." She sobbed, her tears flowing against her will down her rosy cheeks, the ardor almost impossible to bear. Shaking her head, she turned in his arms and hid her face from his steely gaze. The way she was acting was not normal; she felt uncomfortable. Most of all, she felt afraid.

"Why would I ever be away from you?" Christian narrowed his eyes at her and grabbed her arm, turning her to him. "Answer me."

Her silence instilled in both of them more tension and the familiar sense of dread froze everything inside him.

"Ana!" He muttered, forcefully. "Answer me, right now!"

She kept her gaze fixed on his feet. On his beautiful feet. "You have the most beautiful feet I've ever seen. And they'll be the most beautiful feet I'll ever see in my life. I know that. But I also know that whatever I have to offer won't be that for you. I won't be the smartest woman you'll come across in your life and I won't be able to charm you for too long. We're in love now and it'll be good for as long as you find me interesting but that is going to change, Christian."

Her eyes could barely see his feet anymore, her blurry vision accompanied by the hush that fell upon the room. Her ears no longer listened to anything other than her voice. The voice she'd been used to talk to in her many lonely moments. "I am nothing more than just a girl. A very normal girl with no other ambitions in her life than to work and live a decent life. I did nothing, Christian, nothing, but help you a little bit to come out of your hardened shell and realize you deserve so much more than what you ever got, emotionally."

"Ana…" His voice was nothing more than a whisper. A whisper she had no way of hearing at this point. His horror at her words grew just as the river of tears she cried did. Against their command.

"And there'll be a time when your hasty proposal will seem ridiculous to you. I don't want to be here when that happens." She said, with finality.

Her words were so out of the realm of possibility in his mind that he had to focus on what he could hold on to. "I just said that you could wear that dress to dinner and we started arguing about that, Ana… what the hell are you talking about?" He shook his head in disbelief.

She finally looked up at him, her blue eyes grabbing him in their hold as always. "I am talking about my answer. I have decided to say no to your proposal."

"Why?"

"Did you hear me?" Ana asked, frowning. "I just told you why."

"No, that's unacceptable, Anastasia." Christian hardened his expression and went further into the room, reaching his bedside table and getting a small, velvet box from its drawer. He looked back at her, scared for her and scared of her. "This is why I won't accept it and why I won't hear what I know is not true."

She started to protest but he narrowed his eyes even more at her. Any other time, she'd have found it irresistible not to laugh at the sight. But now, she took note of it, saving it in her mind for future use. When she was old and grey and… most likely, alone. The way she was supposed to be. And, in truth, the way she wanted it to be. She didn't want anyone else beside her if Christian wasn't there.

The reality had hit her a few days ago. He was her first, her last and the only man she would ever love. It sucked being an old soul like her. The more she wanted to be like everyone else and have a fun, free life, full of adventures and spontaneous loves, the more she could see that would never be her. Her heart was not hers to choose to love someone else. And her soul wouldn't allow her to settle for anything other than true love.

"Ana, you're out of your mind!" Christian fought against her deceptively calm exterior. The fact that she was talking so dejectedly frightened him."You CANNOT, I repeat, CANNOT ever say that to me ever again." His control always came to the forefront when he felt like he was losing everything else. This was his Ana, his only love, the woman he wanted to marry and cherish for the rest of his life. No way was he letting anything get in the way of that, not even her.

She calmly sat on their perfectly made bed and let her gaze travel to his. Inside, her many voices screamed at her all at once. She felt like her skin would melt to ashes if she didn't get a grasp on what was going on with her but nothing came out of her as her walls came up so potent and so fast that she almost felt like she couldn't take one more step without breaking down. Everything within her fought. For what, she almost didn't know.

She wanted this all-consuming love with Christian. She wanted it more than anything but… and the series of reasons why that couldn't and shouldn't happen came to her mind like bullets one after the other. If only he could spank those voices out of her to give her some peace and quiet. So she could live just a little while with the belief that she'd be old and grey next to him one day in a very distant future. Old, grey, happy and in love.

She sighed as the tears rolled down at a slower pace and focused her attention on him. Even if she resisted against submitting, he put one hell of a fight by dominating her, and right now he secured all the attention on him.

"I thought I was showing you just how much I'm serious about us when I proposed to you, Ana. I mean, what more can I do to assure you of my feelings for you? I don't get it. You're that person for me too. You're the one I'll always dream about, the smartest, kindest person I'll ever have in my life. You don't need to have the knowledge a scientist has to be that for me and you don't need to be Mother Teresa either. In my life, everything you've done for me, making me learn how to be the man you saw in me… nothing beats that."

She looked away. She couldn't digest what he was saying.

Seeing her agitation, he kneeled in front of her, putting his hands on her thighs, his jeans grazing against her bare legs. "And I know you will probably still fight against this for a while but you are the most beautiful person I have ever and will ever meet. I'm certain of that. Don't underestimate me so much. I mean what I say and I've always been honest with you."

Her blush surfaced beneath the tracks of her tears. Softly, careful not to push too much, too soon, Christian held his hand against her face, his thumb clearing one cheek first and then another of their vestiges. "I always thought you were just shy, when you blushed at any compliment. Seems I was wrong. There's more, isn't there?"

She tensed and her eyes searched for whatever it was he saw in her. And at that moment, she could see him reach beyond the icy blue and swim deep into them. Looking down at her hand, which somehow made its away to his on top of her thigh, she wondered if he was the reality she didn't think she could truly have. Maybe… just maybe.

With a slow nod, she answered him.

For some reason, he nodded back at her. Of course, she didn't see it, he thought to himself.

"Let's go." He stood up and held tight onto her hand.

"Where?" She asked, startled.

He raised an eyebrow and half-smiled at her. So, there was no choice, she thought to herself. She kind of started to realize she might not have many choices if it ever came to the remote possibility she was destined to stay with him for the rest of her life.

His footsteps paved the way through his apartment until they reached his office.

"I almost don't want to show you this but I need some words." He started to say, going over to his desk and opening a drawer, his left hand still holding hers, firmly. "Now I have one less Christmas gift to give you this year." He held up a wrapped present that she could only assume would be books.

But what got her attention were his words. He already had Christmas gifts for her. And he said this year as if there were going to be many more to come with them together. She stared at it in wonder.

Carefully ripping the beautiful wrapping paper, she found first editions of "The Wanderings of Oisin and Other Poems", "The Wind Among the Reeds" and "The Rose", the last one with a note stuck to it, that read:

To my only Rose

With Love

Christian

"What does this mean?" She eyed the books and her heart burned with joy that he remembered her love for Yeats. She had mentioned it in passing as if didn't matter too much. But he listened. And he got a meaningful gift for her as a result. Her dear Fifty was nothing if not intensely attentive. The tears threatened to blur her vision again but she chastised herself. No more of that. It's enough.

"It means I don't want you to be my Maud Gonne. I don't want to have to propose to you more than once for you to tell me no again and again. I want you to believe in me and in our love, as real as your tears, and just marry me. If it takes me getting you to therapy with me or by yourself, we'll get through this, Ana. I will not have you doubting yourself anymore. I just… I love you so much… I want you to believe it and understand why." He said, softly, yet with some force. Holding her face, he didn't wait for her to put the books away before he kissed her with all his might, with all his ardency, with all his love for her.

She held tight onto her books as if they'd keep her from falling from his embrace as his kiss took her to the place he always took her to when he kissed her: to a dreamland where only the two of them existed.

After a few moments, he leaned away to regain his breath and looked down at her. "You are going to say yes." He told her. "You're going to marry me."

And just as breathless, before she could hold herself from doing what she must, she nodded.

"Yes."