Title: It Wasn't a Question
Rating: T
Pairing: Greens.
Prompt: Happy New Year.
Words: 987
Summary: He never really had a way with words.
A/N: This is my New Years gift. Special thanks this year to FadedIllusion101, kuku88, Kelsi Lynne, and all of my other FanFiction pals who have been there for me throughout the ages. 8) Hope you enjoy.
Once I had a dream I was Craig McCracken and I woke up crying.
xoxo -ml
It Wasn't a Question
"THREE!"
His emerald green eyes burned into mine, that old familiar smirk on his lips.
...
"TWO!"
He pulled a strand of my hair behind my ear. I don't think I had ever felt more happy and giddy in my life.
...
"ONE!"
His mouth caught mine in a seemingly unending embrace. The world exploded around us, fireworks and shouts ablaze with the fiery passion of our kiss.
...
"HAPPY NEW YEAR!"
My hands found his hair, and his hands my waist. I tangled my fingers in the long, gossamer ebony locks that were all too familiar to me as he felt the curve of my waist and the front of my belly with his palms. I felt my shirt come up a slight bit, exposing the goosebumps rising on my sensitive skin. For that single moment, for those first three seconds of the new year, it was just the two of us and nobody else in the world.
SMASH.
He pushed me out of the way just before a bottle of champagne came crashing down on his head. His brothers laughed haughtily, Brick still holding the neck of the broken bottle in his hand.
"Happy New Year, bitch!" Brick shouted drunkenly at his brother.
"Man, fuck you." Butch punched him in the shoulder but laughed along, his long hair no longer styled but dripping with the alcoholic drink. He snatched the other bottle out of Boomer's loose grip and wrenched the two glasses from the other hand, turning back to me with a wet smirk. I smiled at the scene as my boyfriend offered me a glass, pouring the champagne in a single swift, expert move. Without breaking eye contact with me, he reached behind him and smashed the rest of the bottle on Boomer's head.
Boomer blinked and shook the glass out of his hair, his shirt dripping wet. "Hey, what'd I do?" he asked jokingly. But Butch ignored him. We were too busy making a toast.
"To a wonderful, fantastic, and sexy new year," he said softly, raising his glass to mine.
I raised a suspicious eyebrow. "Sexy?"
He shrugged. "Yeah, where else do you think all this sexiness comes from?"
An eye roll and a playful smirk later, and I was repeating his dedication and touching my glass to his in a toast.
I drank heartily from the glass, the sparkling champagne tickling my throat and arousing my senses. When I lowered my glass, I was met with those playful emerald eyes again, watching me curiously. I wiped the back of my mouth and responded with a curious look of my own.
"What?"
"I've been thinking," he said quietly; calmly. As if this were a normal occurrence for him.
"That's not healthy," I quipped.
"I got this crazy idea."
"What else is new, Butch?" I snorted and took another long sip of my champagne.
"Marry me."
His words hit me mid-sip, and I choked on the liquid that now felt like fire slithering down my throat. My near-empty glass fell shattering to the floor, my eyes growing wide with a few disbelieving coughs.
As soon as I'd regained my composure, I stared at my boyfriend, an incredulous look absorbing my face. He matched my gaze, a blank expression in those enticing green eyes.
"What?"
"Marry me," he repeated, just as plainly as the first time.
It only took me a moment to realize he was being completely serious.
I looked around at my family, his family, our friends, who were completely oblivious to the demand he'd just made of me. That's what it was, after all. It wasn't a question. It was a demand. When I looked back at him, met his eyes again, he was holding a small black box in his left hand.
Oh, no. He was not about to do this in front of my family.
He opened the box. He wasn't getting down onto one knee, I noticed with an internal sigh of relief. I was too busy hyperventilating to breathe properly in the first place.
Inside the box was a shiny silver chain, a sparkling lightning bolt shape dangling at the end. I'm pretty sure it might've been diamond, or something like that, but I don't know, I'm not really that type of girl.
I speechlessly reached out to take the necklace into my hands, caressing the smooth silver between my thumb and forefinger. By now, of course, my ever-observant little sister had noticed the scene and was squealing over it to everyone around her. Which meant everyone was watching me for a response. Including Butch, who hadn't taken his eyes off me for a second. I couldn't stop looking from the sparkle of the necklace to the sparkle of his mesmerizing emerald eyes. His face didn't falter from a hopeful—and curiously calm—expression, and his arms were still as steel as he held out the now empty box.
What happened next was a blur to me. All I remember is leaping into his arms, throwing myself at him with all of my might.
My lips formed the words, "Yes, yes, yes," over and over and over again in between pressing kisses all over his face and lips. For the second time that night, the room erupted into cheers, but this time, they were for us. And for the second time that night, their cheers faded into the background, because it was just the two of us, starting off the new year as one.