“What?”
He takes my face in for a few seconds. Then, “I’ve rejected their offer. Or rather let them know that I won’t be accepting it.”
“What?” I ask again but much more shrilly.
In his usual annoying way, he makes me wait for the answer. And I’m about to go all crazy on him when he sighs and steps back, murmuring, “Fuck it.”
“What? Fuck what?” I ask as I watch him walk backward, taking his bag off and dropping it on the ground with a thud.
He comes to a stop after a couple of steps before he goes ahead and takes my breath away.
He completely hijacks it and leaves me frozen and breathless.
As he comes down on his knees.
Well, one knee.
“What…” I breathe out. “What are you doing?” Before he can say something though, I go, “Are you giving me another anklet?”
Because that’s what he did.
The last time when he came down on his knee, in those woods where we’d first met.
“No.”
I curl my toes and shift on my feet, as if to feel the one I’m wearing around my ankle. Then, uselessly, “Because you don’t have to.”
“Good. Because as I said, I’m not giving you one.”
“I love the old one,” I say, again uselessly.
“I know.”
“How?”
His lips twitch. “Because you never take it off.”
“I don’t. Because I love it.”
“You said that already.”
“Right.” My heart’s pounding. “S-so then what are you doing?”
“Asking you something.”
“Why are you d-doing it from down there?”
“Because it’s the kind of thing you ask when you’re down on your knee.”
Oh God.
Okay.
Okay.Okay.
I figured.
The moment he went down on his knee, I figured that this was different. This was —is— so fucking different than before.