SPARKLES
By: Hopeful Writer
"I love you," Willow said, out of the blue.
Tara, who had been studying psychology from a thick book on her lap, blinked blearily and turned her gaze to Willow. "I love you too," she said.
Willow nodded. "Good."
There was a moment of silence before Tara shrugged to herself and plunged back into her studying. A second later, Willow hopped up from the couch. "Be right back."
"Okay…" Tara tracked her progress until she reached the bedroom door. She looked back down at the chapter she was reading—DEPRESSION—and furrowed her brow. "Willow?" she called. "You're not feeling suicidal, are you?"
"No," Willow called back cheerfully, her voice muffled like her head was in the closet.
Tara nodded to herself and went back to the book. When she heard the dresser drawer open, she said, "You're not packing a bag to leave me, are you?"
"No," Willow called again, her voice clearer but no less blasé.
Tara, who was used to her girlfriend's quirks, shrugged and waited for her to return, which she did a few minutes later, red-cheeked with messy hair. Willow plopped a velvet box on top of Tara's book. She stared at it.
"I'm asking you to marry me," Willow said in the same tone.
"You—you are?" Tara tried to sound like Willow, but her voice broke midway through the sentence.
"Yup. Wait, I've got a speech."
She pulled out her phone and began tapping on it. "It's on your phone?"
"I had to make sure you couldn't find it. You might accidentally see a paper. But you don't ever go into my email."
"You emailed yourself my marriage proposal?" Tara didn't know whether to laugh or shake her head.
"Well, first I emailed it to Buffy so she could tell me if it was good."
"You emailed Buffy my marriage proposal?"
Willow nodded, grinned, and said, "Got it." She took a deep breath. "I've been thinking a lot about love and marriage, and even though marriage is kind of an archaic tradition, it's an archaic tradition I want to celebrate with you. From the first time we kissed, you made the whole world make sense to me. I finally had a place in it, and that place was next to you." She dropped to one knee, and Tara pressed a trembling hand to her mouth. "So please, Tara, will you make me the happiest woman in the world and marry me?"
Willow looked up with imploring eyes, and there was fear in them that Tara found ridiculous because there was only one possibly outcome, and Willow had to know that. "Yes," she said, and it sounded like she'd swallowed a handful of rocks. She cleared her throat and tried again. "Yes. Absolutely. Of course."
Willow swayed a little and clutched at Tara for support. "Yes?"
Tara nodded, and a few of the tears she'd been forcefully containing squeaked loose. "Yes."
"Oh, thank God."
They came together in a kiss, and then another, and then Willow showed Tara a beautiful diamond ring that was dotted with sapphires and emeralds because "they reminded me of you," and Tara cried a little more once it was snugly on her left ring finger.
Willow moved Tara's abandoned book so she could sit next to her on the couch again. She tangled their fingers together and grinned as Tara's new diamond caught the light and sparkled. Tara rested her head against Willow's for a minute before she asked, "Did you write, 'get on one knee,' in your speech?"
Willow hesitated, then grumbled, "I didn't want to get nervous and forget."
Tara laughed, happy giggles that echoed around the room and made Willow smile reluctantly. "I love you," she said as the laughter faded.
Tara sighed contentedly. "I love you too."