Grace and Luke sat in silence on the front porch, watching the silver snow drift softly to the ground. The stars that shone through the clouds winked down at them fondly and the chill air held each breath suspended.
"Now I know why Girardi and Rove do this all the time." She whispered. Luke looked over at her startled. "What?" she asked defensively.
"Nothing," he said, a smile growing on his face, "I just never figured you for a hopeless romantic." She punched him in the shoulder.
"You tell anyone, you die geek."
"No, no I won't tell anyone. I just think it's..." his voice trailed off mockingly.
"What? It's what?" She asked.
"It's kind of cute."
"Oh no, you didn't." She squawked.
"Oh yes I did." He replied getting up and running onto the driveway, scooping up snow as he went. She jumped up and tackled him as he tried to lob a snowball at her head.
"I am not CUTE." She said pinning his shoulders to the ground.
"Oh yes you are." He cooed, kissing her gently. She smiled sheepishly and kissed him back. Suddenly she felt him pull away and pull her to her feet. She looked on in confusion as he fidgeted with his pocket and bent awkwardly to one knee. Realization dawned as he pulled out a blue velvet box. Oh my God. She thought her mouth open in shock. "I've been carrying this around for about a month, I was, uh, waiting for the right moment and I think, kind of think this is, well, it. Grace, I love you, I've never loved anybody but you. Will you marry me?" He finished, wincing slightly as he waited for her to answer. He could feel the awkwardness settle around them as his question was met with silence and he closed his eyes. "Grace?" he asked tentatively, opening his eyes.
"Eeekkk!" She squealed loudly, jumping on him and kissing him fiercely. "Yes, yes, YES!" she screamed to the once silent night. They both turned in surprise when her screams were echoed from within the house.