A/N: First fanfic uploaded here - please be gentle :) Love me some Skeffrey
He'd asked her over and over, more than a million times. And she'd look at him and laugh, and throw a pillow at him or shove a Cheezit in his mouth or punch his shoulder.
And then one day, he was sitting on the piano bench, playing a low octave with some jazz riffs, and Skye was behind him in his tiny apartment kitchen, unpacking the Christmas cookies her sisters had promised. He also suspected she was swiping some peanut butter, but Jeffrey didn't mind.
Anyway, be that as it may, Jeffrey slowly played a final four absolutely perfect measures. And they were exquisite. Beautiful. They were heart-breaking, they flowed, and they were absolutely right.
Just like Skye.
He heard her in the background, still banging around in the kitchen, and then the sound of the lid of the peanut butter and what was probably a spoon hit the ground. He heard Skye's soft, "oh fuck it," and he knew, in the strangest way, he knew in his soul, that the moment was right.
He shifted slightly on the piano bench, angling himself towards her, the perfect figure of nonchalance. Casually, so casually, he asked, a little drawl to his words, "Hey Skye, you wanna marry me?"
She only waited about 1.7 seconds to respond with the "yeah, sure," as confident and casual as he'd ever heard her.
