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It’s dark and cold, but he has his arms wrapped around me and his warm voice sings in my ear. “Dear, would you wake me early in the morning?” he whispers, “I’ve got something to show you.” I hum softly and his smile tickles my ear. I could see the faint outline of our huddled bodies pressed together in the reflection of the window. The two of us drink in the sleepy light of the milky moon pouring through the small skylight.
“What is it?”
“You’ll see.”
He twirls me around. Our breaths mingle together, misty and warm. He squeezes me tight, and smiles, taking my hands to his soft lips. “Tomorrow,” he begins, “We’ll watch beauty herself coming over the edge of the world.” His eyes squint when he smiles wide and little crow's feet crease his skin. “What are you talking about?” His words don’t make any sense, but excitement soars in my chest nonetheless. And I’m laughing with him, because of course I am.
He leads me over to the porch window. The wood is old and splintered, the brass door knobs are spotted with tarnish, and the egg-white paint is starting to peel on the edges. Beyond the glass lies a sleeping city; I get lost in its beauty: taking in every roof, turret, and street. I never want to forget this place, this room, or this moment. This was our home, now, within the very heart of the city with its bustling streets and squealing trains, in the cramped attic of a small boulangerie.
Our grandfather gramophone speaks from its place in the far corner. Its music is old and crinkled, but still, it sings with conviction. The first notes pull me from my trance, and he’s by my side once again. Our hands meet and we begin to dance. Laughter mixes with the jaunty music and the shuffling of bare feet against wood floors.
He hums along to the tune, and twirls me around. He pulls me close once again and my lips barely brush his before I’m pushed away again by his hand and spun around with my back close to his chest. His breath tickles my neck and it sends a cold chill through my body.
“The sunrise is always just a little more breathtaking when your eyes reflect the golden sun,” he sings. The stars in his eyes sparkle from the moonlight as he murmurs the words all the while smiling brightly.
It feels weird to laugh so easily. His smile makes it so hard for me to breathe and his presence intoxicates my mind and leaves me in a haze of happiness. “Kolton,” I whisper, “I’m happy.” His arms squeeze me and I can feel his plush lips grace my shoulder. “Good. I’m glad.” I can feel his smiling face press against the bare skin of my neck. His touch feels like home.
“Do you wish it could have been different?”
“Never, my love.”
“Why?”
I turn around and press my cheek to his chest and find comfort in the steady pounding of his heart. I drill the image of him into my mind as if he could disintegrate in my hands at any moment. “My dear,” his soft hands guide my chin so my eyes are forced to meet his, “I don’t want anything to have changed if it meant I would never meet you.”
"Even through all the pain it took to get to this moment right now," I added softly as I took his hands into mine and ran my thumbs over his rough fingers.
The old gramophone still sings its broken tune, softly echoing its woes to the far corners of the small room. The song soon comes to an end, and he lingers on the last words.
“-To the breaking of the dawn, you’ll be the first one that I see and the last one that I love,” He repeats. Warmth wraps around me as tries to pull me to him but we’re pressed so close together he isn’t very successful.
“Marry me?”
"Yes."