by Drew Hayes
“No, having that experience once was more than enough,” I replied. “But I did realize that this was the park where we met them. It was our first real adventure-date, unless you count the high school reunion, which I decided not to for various reasons. Most important being that I didn’t think I could get you to go all the way back to Kent with me.”
Krystal turned from the benches, confusion and a touch of suspicion splashed across her face. “You’re not usually the overly nostalgic type, Freddy. Something going on?”
“Absolutely.” I stepped closer to her, absorbing every detail of the moment as best I could. Nearly being torn apart had made me realize how much I was taking for granted, and it was a lesson I was determined to learn from. “Krystal, during the attack, there was a moment where . . . where I was sure I was about to die. Not like the times when I’ve just been in danger. This was different. I knew, in the deepest part of my heart, that it was over, and I faced that truth because it was the only thing I could do. It was . . . well, not a pleasant moment, but an enlightening one. I saw things with a new clarity, especially where you were concerned.”
Her suspicion was quickly overtaking her confusion, her features starting to grow sharp and defensive. Given the way my words were coming out, I could hardly blame her. It was going about as smoothly as I’d expected, which was not very smooth at all. “Go on.”
“What I mean to say is that, for a long time, I’ve looked at this relationship with a short-term view. I figured that sooner or later, whatever attraction or need was keeping you with me would fade, and I’d go back to being on my own. You’re an agent, Krystal, and a great one at that. I’m just a guy who likes working with numbers. I could never see a real place for me in your life.” She was looking more and more bothered, so I kept going without pause. I had to get through all of this.
“Then, when I almost died, I realized how utterly idiotic that whole idea was. I’ve gotten to meet other agents, and I’ve finally realized that they aren’t mythical beings divorced from humanity. They’re just people. People with a lot of power, sure, but people trying to do their best, all the same. They have hobbies, and fears, and friends, and things they care about. Your job isn’t what’s going to end us. I am, if I keep letting my own insecurities and fears get in the way of what I know we both feel. And while I’ve made my peace with many forms of cowardice, that’s one that I cannot stand for.”
Krystal stared at me, the suspicion shifting back to confusion as she took my long, admittedly rambling, speech in. “I’m glad you’ve realized you’re not just some phase for me, Freddy, I really am, but I have to wonder where you’re going with this.”
In response, I took her wrist and slowly lowered one of my knees down to the concrete below us. My hand was fumbling, there was no stopping the shakes anymore, as it dug into my khakis and produced a small black box. Finding a ring had taken some care, but thankfully, most jewelry stores posted their wares online. Once I had one reserved, it had just been a matter of slipping out while she was asleep. I’d never been particularly adept at secrets or lying; however, some things were meant to be a surprise.
“Agent Krystal Jenkins, I love you with everything that I have, and everything that I am. You are the most amazing, exhilarating, terrifying, heroic, gentle, and loving creature, human or otherwise, that I’ve ever met. You’re not just my best friend, you’re my favorite person, and I want to spend however long our immortalities last at your side.” I flipped the top of the box open, nearly dropping it, but somehow managing to hang on as the ring came into view. “Will you marry me?”
Krystal didn’t answer so much as dive forward and tackle me the rest of the way to the ground, kissing me so hard it probably would have drawn blood from another person. We stayed like that for a time, embracing under the stars and the moon’s soft spotlight. Finally, perhaps because it seemed like the time had come, or maybe because she needed air, Krystal pulled away long enough so speak.
“In case you couldn’t tell, that was a yes.”
“I was hoping, but I didn’t want to make any assumptions.” She grinned at my stupid joke and kissed me again, though this time, it was far more tender, which I enjoyed as well. When it ended, I continued. “Also, a fair warning: the others are putting together a party for us back at Charlotte Manor. I figured that if you said yes, we’d want to celebrate, and if you said no, then I’d want my friends and some cake.”
“Bubba found out and insisted on throwing a shindig, didn’t he?” Krystal asked.
“Very much so,” I admitted. “But I didn’t object as much you’d expect, so I’m counting that as partial credit for planning it.”
“That seems fair.”
Krystal got to her feet, and I followed her lead, pausing to lift the ring from its box. Carefully, my hands still a bit shaky, I slid the metal circle topped with a diamond onto her finger. It went on without issue, gleaming in the night’s gentle light. She stared at it, tilting it to and fro as she admired her new accessory. “It’s beautiful. You picked a good one.”
“We both did.” That earned me a laugh—the short kind that burst from her mouth when she was genuinely caught off guard. Those were my favorite.
“I should probably give you a little warning, though. Us getting hitched will come with some . . . unique paperwork issues,” Krystal told me. “But we can deal with those later. Tonight, let’s celebrate.”
While not generally one to put off paperwork, on this occasion, I was in full agreement. There would be time to deal with the inevitable hurdles and obstacles of such a union, but it wouldn’t be this evening. Tonight was about friends, and cheer, and the overwhelming joy of finding someone to share our lives with. The rest could wait until we were damn well ready for it.
My fiancé took my arm once more, and we began walking back the way we’d come. It was time to go home.
About the Author
Drew Hayes is an aspiring author from Texas who has written several books and found the gumption to publish a few (so far). He graduated from Texas Tech with a B.A. in English, because evidently he’s not familiar with what the term “employable” means. Drew has been called one of the most profound, prolific, and talented authors of his generation, but a table full of drunks will say almost anything when offered a round of free shots. Drew feels kind of like a D-bag writing about himself in the third person like this. He does appreciate that you’re still reading, though.
Drew would like to sit down and have a beer with you. Or a cocktail. He’s not here to judge your preferences. Drew is terrible at being serious, and has no real idea what a snippet biography is meant to convey anyway. Drew thinks you are awesome just the way you are. That part, he meant. Drew is off to go high-five random people, because who doesn’t love a good high-five? No one, that’s who.
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