Ayame ran his hands down Miné's sides until they rested firmly around her waist.

Waist, 28 inches.

Miné leaned back to rest against Ayame, whose hands had moved down to her hips.

Hips, 39 inches.

Miné looked up at Ayame. "You, sir," she stated, mock seriously, "are interrupting my cooking." She gestured toward the pot on the stove, stirring spoon now abandoned and laying across the top of the pot like a blue plastic bridge.

"Mmhmm..." Ayame replied distractedly as he brushed her hair out of her face. "I'm so VERY concerned. Whatever shall we do?"

She has such beautiful dark hair. And pale skin. Red, I think, should do.

Hands on her hips, Miné gave Ayame her sternest glance. He raised a slender silver brow in return.

"Shoo."

"Oh! So callous! So cold! My heart is mortall wounded by your cruelty!" Ayame lifted a dramatic hand to his forhead, tipping his head back and causing his silver hair to cascade over his shoulder as he feigned a dramatic death.

Miné, of course, was neither impressed nor swayed by his antics.

"I'm sure. You can come back when dinner is ready."

Ayame heaved a dramatic sigh and exited the room.

Oh, my. I do believe I forgot a crucial measurement. No matter. I can get it... tonight.

Normally, it would hurt his pride, as a master designer and creator of clothing, to have to actually take someone's measurements. He was confident in his ability to judge such things at a glance.

He contemplated this as he lay beside her that night.

Miné.

Her every dimension was burned into his memory, since the day his curse was broken, and he was able to hold her at last.

But.

He needed to be sure of these measurements. It had to be perfect.

oooooooooooooooooooooo(I don't know how to do a page break)ooooooooooooooooo

Ayame was acting strange.

Well, stranger than usual. He didn't come to bed until late at night. His eyes seemed tired, and had that squinty look he only got from performing intricate embroidery. Funny. Miné didn't remember such an order coming in to the shop recently.

Miné walked into the sewing room, a sheaf of papers, the day's orders, in hand.

"Ayame, we had a large order come in. Six deluxe maid outfits all in different colours. Except apparently they are for... men. What are you doing?" she asked abruptly, as Ayame hurriedly hid whatever he was working on. Miné caught a flash of red before Ayame stood, blocking her view.

"Oh, nothing. Six? My, my, we have been busy lately..."

"What was it, Ayame?"

"Oh, my dear. You'll just have to wait and see, now won't yooooou."

Miné heaved a sigh. There was no arguing with Ayame when he was in a mood like this.

oooooooooooooooooooooo(I don't know how to do a page break)ooooooooooooooooo

Ayame leaned back and clenched and unclenched his hands, stretching his long fingers, which had begun to cramp.

Switching off his desk lamp, he smiled to himself. It was done.

As Ayame undressed and slid into bed, he thought about his plan for tomorrow. He'd always been one to give dramatic speeches. It had gotten him into (though somehow never out of, that seemed to be Hatori's job) many situations.

Yet, somehow, when he thought about tomorrow he found himself, quite literally, speechless.

Miné made a content humming sound in her sleep, and rolled over so that she faced him.

Ayame smiled down at her.

It will all be worth it. It is already.

oooooooooooooooooooooo(I don't know how to do a page break)ooooooooooooooooo

"Miné?"

The voice was almost a whisper, barely breaking through the fog of emerging from sleep.

Miné opened her eyes and blinked, a shape slowly coming into focus over the edge of the bed. The shape finally sharpened into the face of Ayame, kneeling beside the bed, head laid on one open palm, regarding her with gentle warmth in his eyes.

"Good morning, Miné! I have a gift for you!"

"A gift?" Miné slowly sat up, sheets rustling and fall down around her. She swung her feet, small and pale, over the bed to rest on the ground, and was about to get up when Ayame place a hand on her knee, stilling her. His hand was then replaced with a package, tied in red ribbon.

"What is it?"

"Oh, you do insist on ruining all the fun of surprises, don't you? Open it!"

Tentatively, with a small degree of suspicion, Miné undid the ribbon and let the wrapping fall.

She gasped. "Oh, Ayame! It's beautiful!"

She stood up and shook it out, revealing a red silk kimono embroidered with delicate flowers of flowers of gold. A , plain, gold-coloured obi fell to the floor. She knelt to pick it up and found her hands grasped, her body turned to face him, still kneeling on the ground.

"Ayame..."

"Miné. My dear Miné."

"It's beautiful," she breathed.

"It's more than that. It is, I hope, fit for a bride."

"Ayame, I...I"

"Miné, I have loved you since the moment I saw you. I knew I needed a seamstress of your calibre. I did not know what else I needed, that you would also bring. Every hour where I could not hold you was agony. But now I am free. I am my own man, and I want nothing more than for you to be my wife. Will you, Miné? Will you marry me?"

Miné placed a gentle hand on either side of his face, on hand still holding the kimono, red silk waterfall from where it touched his face to where it pooled on the floor beside the couple.

She looked at him carefully, remembering the day he had first used those same words.

"I was born to love you. And now I can. I'm free."

She had known, of course. About the curse. He had told her the night she came to tend his fever, and found a snake asleep in his bed.

Later, when he had changed back and she had told him that it would take a hell of a lot more than that to faze her, he had told her that he loved her.

She loved him. With all her heart she did. Everything he did, from simplest tasks to the grandest schemes, he did with a passion. And ever since the breaking of the curse, that passion had only been doubled. He lived with all the fervour of one who had missed much of life, and wanted to make up for it in every way.

She leaned her forehead against his, and, looking into those eyes, so open and vulnerable, waiting for her answer, whispered a single word.

"Yes."

Ayame's head slid down to rest in the curve of her neck.

"I love you," he murmured against it.

"I love you," she replied.

"Good!" He said, "now go brush your teeth. Please."

Miné smacked his shoulder. "You choose to propose with even letting me get out of bed. Don't blame me."

"I'll go make breakfast. Take a shower!"

"Fine."

As Miné disappeared into the adjoining bathroom, Ayame headed into the kitchen. A thought suddenly hit him.

I forgot to have her try it on!

As he walked, he smiled to himself.

Ah, that can wait. For now, I must call Yuki!

A/N: Hello!

I've always found Ayame and Miné fascinating, particularly because I think she knew about the curse long before she was supposed to. Ayame never did seem the type to follow the rules.

I had this idea very recently, and I thought it would be a sweet proposal.

And because I also have a very depressing idea, and I wanted to get this happy one out first. Since we seem to be in a cycle of sad/happy/sad so far.

That's all! Thanks for reading :)