"Oh yeah… I proposed last night didn't I?" Angela asked nonchalantly, as if it was something as simple as forgetting to lock the front door before she went to bed. "Huh. So now that I'm awake and it's not like four in the morning, would you tell me your answer?" He leaned back, letting his head fall over the edge of the couch, bumping the wall slightly. Angela winced at the sound of the thunk it made.
"Well, I accept of course. What did you think I would say?" Gill replied, to which Angela puckered her lips and looked at her feet.
"I thought you would yell and get mad again and then we wouldn't talk for a long time," she mumbled with a pout in her voice. Gill rolled his eyes at her childish answer and pushed Angela's hair back, her normally bright eyes were somewhat bloodshot and heavy bags hung under them. She looked like she had been punched in the face; it was truly pitiful.
"You're really something, aren't you?" He mused aloud. "I promise to never yell at you again, as long as you don't put yourself in so much danger again. Getting sick is one thing. Getting sick and trying to do all of your work is something I would get angry at you about." Gill ruffled his hair, as if to stir up a better way to say it. "I mean… I don't really get angry. I just get, and I hate to say it, terrified." Sick of his emotional conversation, he changed the subject. "You need rest in your own house. I'll walk you home." Angela nodded drowsily as she pulled on her coat and slipped into her shoes. They were silent for the walk home, both developing migraines from the few hours of sleep they had gotten. After what seemed like hours, they found themselves at her door. She fumbled with the key, her mind muddled. Gill, who was able to cope a bit more with little sleep, unlocked the door with ease to let her inside.
"Be careful on your way home, my fiancé!" Angela called. Her soft bed felt like a cloud even though the sheets hadn't been washed in weeks, and the blanket was tangled in a big lump. Compared to her previous places to sleep, it was amazing. Showering and changing into clean clothes could wait.
"Dad?" Gill asked apprehensively. His father turned around, concerned by his tone. "I'm…" he cleared his throat, "I guess I'm getting married." Hamilton covered his mouth in shock. Married? His son? "I know it's kind of sudden, but early this morning, Angela showed up, asked me to marry her, and passed out. I just walked her home for her to get some rest. You're okay with this, right?"
"I'm more than okay with it, my boy! Who would've thought that my little son would grow up to marry such a charming young woman like Angela?" Hamilton continued to ramble happily, though Gill had tuned out his voice after about thirty seconds. The town would know about everything within a day's time, and Gill dreaded it. But for now, he let his dad have his moment.