Today marks the end of their third year of dating, and the beginning of their fourth.
They are in love.
They hold hands as they watch a movie at his house, not caring to do anything special; it is special enough just to spend time together when he is so busy. Her head lays on his shoulders as the movie draws to a close; the hero and heroine kiss and then the closing credits roll.
He kisses her forehead, and they stand up from the couch, stretching their limbs.
"I'll be right back," he murmurs to her, disappearing into some room or another in his house. Three years they have been dating, and she can still not figure out how the house works, no matter how many tours she has been given by him or his sister. Maybe one day she will.
He reappears suddenly, a different way than he exited. She turns to face him, a smile gracing her pretty features as she brushes a lock of red hair out of her eyes.
"I have a gift for you," he says matter-of-factly.
"I have one for you, too," she replies, raising her eyebrows. It was a rule between them that gifts were not to be expensive, and something in his sly smile hinted at the fact that his gift broke their rule. She wouldn't know, though, because he spoke again.
"By all means, you go first." He is being strangely formal – she thought that they had gotten over that, but it was just falling back into old habits. They would figure it out by their next anniversary, maybe.
She fishes something out of her purse, what appears to be a deck of normal playing cards, bound together with a rubber band that has obviously seen better days, and hands them to him. He is about to put them into his pocket when she pipes up again. "Flip over the top card," she encourages him with a slight smile on his face. He undoes the rubber band, slinging it carelessly around his wrist the way she always does.
He flips over the top card, as she had instructed. It's the two of diamonds, but it states more than just the number and suit. The two diamonds in the middle are looped through with words written carefully in black Sharpie, in the handwriting he knows so well. Without reading it, he flips up the next card, and the next; each one is covered in the same careful penmanship, but with different words. He reassembles the cards carefully in their intended order.
"What is this?" He doesn't mean it to be rude, and she doesn't take it that way. He is just confused.
"Fifty-two reasons I love you," she mumbles back, suddenly abashed by his attention. "It's supposed to be bound into a little book with holes through the cards, but I only thought of it last week and I had to make sure my writing was neat." She gives him a smile, and practically drags him over to the couch in his living room, forcing him to sit down and curling up beside him. "I chose each one because I remember a story about it." She nuzzles into his neck as he begins to read them, starting with the two of diamonds.