"You make me a little crazy, you know that?"
Imelda lifted her head and glanced over, narrowed her eyes. The pins between her lips dipped as she slanted her mouth in confusion. Héctor was leaning in the shade of the courtyard tree, adding a small skeleton face to the headstock of his guitar. The strings hung loose as he did this, allowing him full access.
His eyes, a light brown that shifted with hints of gold in the dappled light, met hers. She felt a now familiar bloom of warmth and fought hard against a smile. She won, but not by much.
"And how, pray tell, am I doing that?" She pointedly turned away. Pulled a pin from between her lips. Adjusted the seam of the skirt she was altering.
"You pretend to ignore me." She could basically hear the faux pout in his voice. The over-exaggerated puppy-dog eyes he would be flashing towards her. "You sit and sew and don't ever glance my way!"
She scoffed. This was a blatant lie. When they were in the same space they couldn't help but look at each other. Sneaking glances filled with heat and passion. Their gaze was magnetic, and snapped together if either drifted close.
"And I can get over it, but besides all of that, you won't marry me."
That made her pause. Needle half through fabric. Fingers frozen in place. She lowered the skirt, swivelled in her seat. Stared at him with wide and shocked eyes.
"I…what?"
They had never spoken of marriage. They had never discussed their future. In all their whispered conversations and secret meetings, Héctor had never given any indication that he wanted anything long term.
Though, that wasn't exactly true either. She had seen…something in his eyes whenever he saw her. Felt something when he had first nervously held her hand and asked her permission for a kiss. Sensed something in his demeanour when he was with her. Could she imagine being with this man forever? For the rest of her life? Yes, she absolutely could.
Still, him asking needled her the wrong way. Straightening her spine, spitting her pins to the side, she snapped, "You never asked."
He didn't flinch. Her flares of temper had never made him bat an eyelid. Where other men would quail and try desperately to appease her, Héctor simply smiled and shrugged and carried on as though nothing had changed.
"Did I have to?"
Having coloured in a single tooth on the little skeleton face, he began to tighten the strings. One foot tapping out a beat to a new imagined song. Long fingers gently teasing wooden pegs. Bringing music back to the instrument. Delicately, with infinite love and caring. The way he looked at her, kissed her, touched her.
He looked up. That easy charming smile, his left cheek dimpled and his gold tooth twinkling. Those soulful eyes, dancing with humour. The hot flash of anger faded, warmed into amusement.
"I suppose not." She lost the fight and a small smile pulled up one corner of her mouth. She turned back to the skirt. Finished the stitch she'd frozen in the middle of and moved on to the next one. Feeling the heat in her cheeks and the excited knot in her stomach. Subtly, so he wouldn't see, she pinched her leg and grinned at the sudden sharp sting.
"A spring wedding?" Accompanied by a quick strum of notes that sent a shiver up her spine. Making sure his instrument was in tune. Ensuring it sounded as though he wasn't waiting eagerly for her response. Forcing nonchalance into the conversation.
"What about autumn?" She was mostly teasing. The idea of a spring wedding, only a few short months away, sounded amazing. Delightful. She could hardly wait already.
She heard the gentle thump as he laid his guitar down, the quiet padding of his soft-soled shoes as he approached. He wrapped his arms around her, leaning warm against her back. Cradled her close. Pressed his lips to the top of her head.
"I see you dressed in flowers," he murmured into her hair. "Dancing beneath a snowfall of petals. Singing and smiling. Will you smile when you marry me, Imelda?"
She lowered the skirt. Leaned into his embrace. Turned her head and tilted her face to his. When she spoke their lips brushed together, lighting a spark that spiralled lazily through her body to pool in her belly. Judging by the flush that rose in Héctor's cheeks, he felt it too. It was hard to keep her voice steady, to add her own casual air to play off his.
"Yes, I think I will."