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Sunlight streamed through the crack in the blinds and cast across Thomas’ face. He groaned and rolled away from the light. Extending his arms, he expected to find his boyfriend, Pierre-Luc, on the other side of the bed. When his arms came into contact with nothing, he sat up in surprise. Thomas ran a hand through his sleep-knotted hair and stretched before looking around the room. He saw no signs of Pierre-Luc and thought that odd. He hadn’t told Thomas that he was going anywhere.
As Thomas sat there, he felt his stomach growl. Placing a hand on top of it, he patted gently. Swinging his feet over the bed, he slipped them into the slippers that were sitting in front of the nightstand. Thomas stretched one more time before he stood and walked out of the bedroom.
Trudging through the hallway, he still saw no sign of Pierre-Luc. Thomas smelled no food cooking, signalling that his boyfriend hadn’t gotten up early to make breakfast. When Thomas arrived in the kitchen, there was a note attached to the refrigerator with a magnet. He walked over and lifted the magnet as he slid the note out from underneath it.
Reading what was on it, Thomas smiled softly. Pierre-Luc had said that he would be back within the hour because he was running an important errand. Thomas felt better, both about the fact that Pierre-Luc thought to leave a note and the fact that the note was written in French. Thomas also felt better knowing that Pierre-Luc could return any time because he wasn’t sure how long ago he had left.
Placing the note on the counter, Thomas went to the cupboard and pulled some cereal and a bowl out. Pouring the cereal into the bowl, he grabbed the milk from the refrigerator. Just as he was pouring the milk, he heard the front door open and close.
As soon as the bowl was full, he put the milk away, grabbed a spoon, and walked into the foyer to greet whoever had entered the house.
Much like Thomas had expected, Pierre-Luc was standing there. What he hadn't been expecting was the box his boyfriend was holding; it was nearly as big as his torso. Thomas raised an eyebrow as he shovelled some cereal into his mouth. After he swallowed, Thomas motioned to the box with the spoon.
"Qu'est que c'est," Thomas asked before shovelling more cereal into his mouth.
“Come to the living room and I’ll show you,” Pierre-Luc responded, smiling.
Thomas shrugged and followed Pierre-Luc to the living room. Pierre-Luc sat on the couch and Thomas sat on the chair opposite the couch. Pierre-Luc placed the box on the coffee table; Thomas placed the cereal bowl on the end table beside him.
Pierre-Luc motioned to the box, a look of glee on his face. “Go on, mon rayon de soleil. Open it.”
Leaning forward, Thomas lifted the lid off of the box. When he peered inside, he felt his heartbeat skip and stutter what felt like thirty times. Reaching in, he pulled out a golden retriever puppy. As he looked between the puppy and Pierre-Luc, he felt his eyes watering.
“Pierre-Luc…” Thomas trailed off, unsure of what to say to express how he was feeling.
Thomas squeezed the puppy close to his body. That’s when he felt it. A hard, jagged entity pressing into his ribcage. Pulling the puppy back, he saw a small box tied around her collar. Glancing quickly at Pierre-Luc, Thomas saw that he was smiling and wringing his hands together nervously.
Swallowing thickly, Thomad untied the box and opened it. What he was expecting was nothing like what he found. He had been expecting a pair of cufflinks, maybe a bracelet. Instead, there was an engagement ring staring back at him.
“I…” Thomas stopped, words getting caught on a thick lump that had formed in his throat.
Pierre-Luc knelt on the floor and grabbed the ring from his boyfriend with one hand and his left hand with the other. He looked at Thomas, eyes hopeful.
“Yes. God, yes,” Thomas said as the tears started to fall from his eyes.
Pierre-Luc slipped the ring on Thomas' finger before shimmying over and kissing his fiancé. The puppy weaselled her nose in between them, licking Pierre-Luc on the nose and then licking Thomas on the cheek. They laughed, scratching her behind each ear.
“We should name her Violette,” Thomas said, snuggling the puppy closer to his body.
Smiling, Pierre-Luc ran his hand down Violette’s back. “Because my team is blue and yours is red?"
"Je ne parle pas anglais."
"Je parle français." Pierre-Luc rolled his eyes and chuckled. "Tu n'es pas intelligent."
Thomas chuckled, lightly whacked Pierre-Luc on the shoulder, and smiled. He leaned forward to kiss his fiancé. Pierre-Luc kept running one of his hands through Violette’s fur, trying to keep her calm; she still managed to weasel her way in the middle of their kiss. They chuckled again, looking at Violette fondly.
A warm feeling spread through Thomas as he watched Pierre-Luc interact with Violette. He felt the happiest he had in years. This was what he wanted with his future.
Dogs and the other French-Canadian hockey player as his husband.
