Thursday
Picture 2
Burntcore's Choice: Picture 1
Title:
Marisa woke to the sounds of something frying in her kitchen. The delicious smell of freshly brewed coffee and eggs cooking wafted into her bedroom, making her stomach growl loudly. She rolled out of bed and slipped on her robe before padding out into the kitchen.
Aris stood in his boxers and tshirt in front of the stove, poking at something in the frying with a spatula. She watched him quietly from the doorway, amused as he moved about. He looked down at a piece of paper on the counter, looked back at the frying pan, then back to the paper again. With a nod, he turned and jumped when he saw Marisa.
“Holy crap, baby. You scared the shit out of me!” he exclaimed with a laugh.
Marisa smiled and walked into the kitchen. “Sorry.”
“How long were you standing there?” Aris asked as he opened the fridge and pulled out a jar of jelly and a can of cool whip.
“Only a few minutes. What are you making?”
Aris put the items on the counter next to the paper he had been referring to earlier. “Breakfast.”
“I can see that. What is it?” Marisa asked as she tried to see over his shoulder.
Aris chuckled and spun her around before she could see what was in the pan. “It’s a surprise, silly girl. Go sit down at the table and I’ll bring it over when it’s ready.”
Marisa huffed but had a smile on her face as she sat and waited for her surprise. Aris wasn’t a big fan of cooking so she was curious what he was up to that morning. If she didn’t feel like cooking, his idea of making dinner usually involved picking up the phone.
After a few minutes of watching him work, he turned to her with a nervous smile on his face. “Close your eyes, Marisa.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really. Please?”
She smiled and closed her eyes, angling her face towards him. The quiet thunk and chink of a plate and mug were the only sounds she heard besides him shuffling around the table. The chair next to her groaned as Aris sat down.
“Open your eyes,” he whispered.
“Oh, Aris! This is lovely!” In front of her was a plate of french toast, but not any ordinary french toast. Aris had cut the toast to look like hearts. Each heart had a dollop of jam and a letter written in whipped cream. The toast spelled out “L-O-V-E.”
“I wanted to do something nice for you.” Aris was blushing as he looked at her.
“You certainly did. This looks great. I didn’t realize you knew how to make french toast.”
“I didn’t, really. I had an idea from watching you before plus the recipe I found spelled it out really well.”
Marisa smiled and looked over at his plate, which had all the remainents of her heart shaped toast. It looked like he had a plate of V’s.
“Go ahead, take a bite,” he encourage.
She nodded and cut off the bottom of the L piece. It was delicious. The sweetness of the jam was complemented by the cool creaminess of the whipped cream, all surrounded by the warm, eggy goodness of the french toast. She closed her eyes and savored the taste. This french toast rivaled the kind she normally made. Marisa thought she may have to steal his recipe.
When she opened her eyes, Aris was fiddling with something in his lap nervously.
“Are you okay, Ari?” she asked, reaching out to touch his arm.
“Yeah, sorry.”
Marisa smiled and took another bite. “This is really quite good, Aris. You did a great job.”
He returned her smile, but it still looked strained.
“Are you sure you’re okay? You look like something is bothering you,” she asked again, her voice full of concern.
“Um, yes, just nervous.” Before she could ask him what he was a nervous about, he continued. “Please close your eyes again.”
She did as he asked and closed her eyes. Marisa heard him move near her, not going far but no longer sitting in the chair next to him. She nearly jumped when she felt Aris take her hand.
“Can I open my eyes now?”
“Yes, now.”
Aris was kneeling beside her, holding one of her hands while he held a small black box in his other.
“Aris?” she asked, her voice trembling.
“Marisa, I love you. I have loved you for so long I can’t even remember when I first realized I did. What I do know is that I never want to stop. Please say you want to love me forever too and be my wife. Will you marry me?”
She was floored. They had talked about marriage a few times but nothing ever serious. Marisa honestly didn’t think that Aris was ready for that step yet. She had been fine with that, knowing that they had their entire lives ahead of them still. Apparently he was more ready than she realized.
The question was, was she?
Aris looked up at her, his eyes full of hope and love as he waited for her answer. As the seconds went and she didn’t answer, dread and dispair began to creep into his face. Before he could totally breakdown, she answered.
“Oh, Aris, yes! Yes! Yes, I will marry you! I love you.”
“Oh, thank God!” he sighed, relieved and slipped the ring on her left hand. “You nearly gave me a heart attack there.”
“Sorry, I was so caught up in the moment that I forgot to answer!”
Marisa leaned down and kissed him softly, enjoying the weight of her engagement ring on her finger.
“No matter. I’m just glad you did,” he replied, running his hands through her hair.
She smiled and kissed him again. Aris slowly stood up and pulled her up with him, wrapping his arms around her.
“Of course, silly man. How could I deny you?”
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