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You sat in a lonely barstool cushion leaning on the bar, your forearms resting flat on the hard, cold wood. A beer stood in front of your arms, perspiring onto the napkin underneath. You don’t even know why you were here. You certainly did not feel like drinking that evening. Your eyes and ears tuned everything out, leaving you alone—not a thought to be had. It was only you and the bartender in that room, both equally minding each other’s business. While you sat there, motionless, the bartender was tending to the drinkware, ensuring they were dry and clean for the next visitor. The door opened to the bar again, but you didn’t bother turning your head. As you continued to stare, you noticed someone approach the bar, order their drink, and sit two seats away—still reluctant to move your head.
“What are you looking at?”
Blinking, you fell out of your statuesque state and fidgeted your head to the right. Catching up to your eyes, your mind began to process who asked the question. Before you sat a woman with completely white hair that flowed past her waist, glowing, tan skin, and red eyes that attracted your attention like a moth to a flame. The woman was wearing an orange, baggy shirt with white leggings that had a purple stripe down the sides, and white tennis shoes. You could tell she was pretty fit too as her thigh muscles protruded slightly.
And…rabbit ears? You were not entirely sure how you missed those.
Noticing your eyes, the woman pointed to her ears and spoke: “Oh, these? Yep, they’re real.”
“Oh, I wasn’t going to…”
“It’s okay,” she giggled, “I just like to mess around.” A faint smile grew on her lips as she waved with dismissal. “So, what were you staring at earlier? It looked pretty intense.”
“Oh,” motioning your hand slightly towards the air,” I was just, you know, lost in thought, I guess.” You placed both hands around the base of your drink. “Anyway, what brings you here?” you asked, attempting to recover from the awkward opening.
“Oh. I just needed to escape from the world for a minute. Work has been a little chaotic lately.” The bartender gave the woman her drink and she quickly took a swig with great coordination.
Out of either natural curiosity or instinct, you asked: “What do you do?”
The woman blinked as her eyes widened slightly. Swallowing her drink, she leaned forward on her arm as she rested her elbow on the bar. “I’m not trying to come across as mean, but are you serious?” She pointed to her ears and asked: “These don’t ring any bells?” she asked, wearing the most surprised and puzzled face. One eyebrow was raised as high as can be, and her lips were open slightly on one side. She was truly baffled that someone did not know about her.
“I can’t say they do,” you responded, shrugging. “Am I supposed to know? Are you famous or something? Not trying to be rude either, of course.” You rested your cheek within your palm.
“You could say that. I’m ‘Mirko the Rabbit Hero’,” she explained.
“Oh, I don’t pay attention to heroes much. Sorry.” Your body deflated a tad, feeling somewhat bad about failing to recognize her.
“No, no, that is perfectly okay. I’m actually glad. It’s so hard to go anywhere without getting stopped by a fan. Don’t get me wrong. I love all of them, but I need a break sometimes.” She turned her head looking towards her drink, staring at the floating ice. She appeared mentally winded. Cocking her head in your direction, she softly continued: “I-it’s pretty refreshing to talk to someone who doesn’t know me as a hero. Sorry, I just realized I never asked for your name.”
“It’s okay.” You told her your name and continued speaking: “Yeah, I can imagine it’s a lot after a while,” you agreed. A sense of relief washed over you.
Mirko’s phone vibrated once in her pocket, causing her to check the notification. After a quick read, she let out a small sigh, closing her eyes shut and tilting her head down. “Well, I need to go. It was nice chatting with you,” she said, putting her phone away and paying for her drink.
“Y-yeah, it was nice talking with you as well,” you replied as she stood up and walked towards the door. Your eyes followed her towards the exit—unsure as to why you were drawn to her.
Before opening the door, Mirko looked back to meet your gaze. Waving with one hand and holding the door handle with the other, she said: “Maybe I’ll see you around. If not, have a good one.”
Nodding, you answered with: “See you around.” You waved back, watching until the last strand of hair left your view. The door shut with a loud finality. You turned back towards the bar and raised your hand slightly. “Check, please.”
Two weeks have passed since you met Mirko. You attempted to act normal about it, but you could not stop thinking about your time at the bar. It prompted you to do some research. You learned a decent amount about her, like how she was ranked number five amongst all the heroes in the nation, and that she liked…carrots. Not much else was discovered about her by you—but you wanted to know more.
You were laying on your bed, staring at the ceiling with your hands behind your head. Not knowing what else to do, you decided you needed to distract yourself and head out. You made your way to the mall. Plenty of things to look at and do there, you thought. And some sun wouldn’t hurt either.
As you were walking towards the mall, you stopped in front of some shops about a block away from the mall due to a sound. The sound was violent. Trusting your instincts, you began to backpedal slowly, which turned into a jog, and inevitably a run as you witnessed cars get tossed around like ragdolls about 100 meters away. However, the violence still found you despite your efforts. A car spinning through the air headed directly towards your path. You were completely oblivious to it, only concerned with leaving the vicinity as your adrenaline fueled your attempted escape. As you ran, you witnessed a shadow over you growing larger. You turned your head to see the hurdling car and froze in place as if you were stuck in mud. Unconsciously, time slowed as your impending doom approached. You felt every heartbeat echo throughout your body. B-beat! B-beat! B-beat! But just like that, the moment passed—and the car vanished. You only remember seeing a flash of purple and white. Breaking free from your state of shock, you turned your head to the right—and there she was—Mirko. She was crouched with a hand and knee on the ground, and looking further, you noticed two halves of a car. W-was that…her? She was serious! She stood from her pose, and surveyed the area. After clearing her surroundings of imminent danger, she turned and walked towards you.
“Hey, are you all right? No injuries?” She placed both hands on her hips, smiling confidently. Her long hair was blowing slightly with the wind behind her. You couldn’t help but stare into her warm, welcoming eyes. “Wait a minute. Do I know you from somewhere?” She brought her thumb and index finger to her chin and closed her eyes, appearing to be deep in thought. Her foot tapped the ground steadily. With a sudden realization, she raised her head and snapped her fingers in unison. “Oh, I re-” Suddenly, her ears perked up and her eyes widened. Her head jolted to her right, and then immediately back to you. Before you could react, you found yourself in the nearby alleyway between the shops, about 20 meters away, and Mirko was out of sight—in your mind.
You crept towards the corner, peering just beyond the lining of the brick walling. Your hands and eyes rode the edge of the wall. It was all too fast to keep track of, even when squinting your eyes. Blurs of white and purple wrapped around the chaos like a twirling ribbon. Your eyes lagged far behind, dancing around as they attempt to follow. Eventually the blur came to a halt along with Mirko. You saw the villain being taken into custody. It appeared that the danger was gone and the area was safe. So fast! Your eyes managed to see her smile ear to ear before she vanished again. You looked around, still maintaining your position in the alley. All of a sudden, your vision was filled with Mirko’s face.
“Hey!” she said.
Caught off guard, you stumbled backwards, gasping loudly. You braced with your arms to catch yourself, but as you fell, you felt foreign hands supporting your back. You were lifted upright. Gaining your bearings and composure, you turned around to see it was Mirko—once again.
Gasping a sigh of relief, you begged: “Please, don’t scare me like that.” Your hand scratched your head out of embarrassment as you caught your breath..
“Oops. My mistake,” she said, lightly chuckling with a hand over her lips. “Did you enjoy the show out there? I was pretty awesome, right?” She dusted your shoulders and then crossed her arms, proudly wearing her cocky smile.
“I couldn’t really tell what happened. You’re so fast and my eyes couldn’t keep up. But yes, I am impressed.”
“Thanks. And yeah,” cocking her head and waving her hand concurrently, “I am a much different person out there than at the bar. Anyway, I have to go. I’m still on the clock, but I am glad you’re still safe.” She patted your shoulder with one hand and turned around towards the opposite end of the alleyway.
Without thinking, you blurted: “Can I take you to dinner?” You paused as you realized what you asked. “Oh, um, I mean…”
Her ears twitched. She looked over her shoulder and asked: “Dinner, huh?”
“Y-yeah, just to, you know, repay you for saving my life today.” You looked towards the ground, kicking it with one foot. You held your arm behind your back at the elbow.
Mirko brought her index finger to her chin, lightly tapping it as she looked towards the sky. You heard her humming as she momentarily thought about your request. “Okay. I’m down. Where do you want to go?” she questioned with curiosity, revealing her pearly teeth as she grinned.
“There’s a steakhouse near here. We can meet there around 5 P.M. tomorrow.” Your instincts were on full throttle. You didn’t even comprehend what you were saying until seconds after the fact. Your body was sweating slightly out of nerves and you began to feel your heart pounding. Beat! Beat!
“Okay. Then it’s a date,” she stated. Mirko winked and began walking away, waving. The last thing you saw her do was crouch down and leap out of view. Once again, she was too fast for you.
I can’t believe that just happened. How did that even happen? Well, I-I guess I better prepare for the “date”, you thought. You shrugged and walked back home, deciding today was too eventful to continue.
The next day, you sat on a metal bench near the entrance to the restaurant, just to the right. Your foot was bouncing up and down anxiously on the hard concrete. Your mind was racing and your hands were clasped—baring white knuckles. Why am I so nervous? It’s just a one time dinner to express thanks. After that, I will likely never see her again. Slightly puckering your lips, you exhaled cold air, attempting to calm yourself. Hearing a sharp, yet deep noise against the ground, you looked up to your right to see her. She was wearing a collared, sleeveless shirt that matched her hair color, deep blue jeans, and short, brown booties that engulfed the hem of her pants. Her accessories entailed golden hoop earrings, a small, brown, leather handbag, and a gold bracelet on her right wrist.
The world around her froze. All that was left was her as she walked. To say you were mesmerized was an understatement. You were utterly breathless. The way she walked and the way her hair bounced with each step captivated your eyes. Her toned arms stood out, not in an intimidating fashion, but a comforting one. Your hands loosened their grip on one another, your foot stopped bouncing, your body relaxed, but your heart was still beating, though—for a different reason. You didn’t know the reason yet, but you would find out soon enough. Standing up from the bench, you greeted Mirko with a wave and said: “Hey there. You sure look nice,” you complimented, giving her another quick look.
“Why, thank you! I wasn’t sure if I overdressed,” looking down at her clothing, “especially since this is our first meeting outside the bar and yesterday.”
“Oh, no. Not at all. You look great,” you replied reassuringly.
“You are too nice. You look great, as well.”
“Oh, t-thanks.” A gentle blush rode across your face.
You both began walking towards the entrance, with you hurrying ahead to hold the door open for her and gestured towards inside. She nodded with ample thankfulness and entered. You followed her in and checked with the hostess about your reservations. She handed the menus to your server, which was followed by: “Right this way.”
It was a relatively simple walk towards the booth. Upon reaching the seats, the server gestured towards them. The seats themselves were shiny, black leather cushions with red vinyl padding to lean your back against. Black wood was used to hold the cushions, creating the cubicle. The table itself was a brightly stained walnut to contrast the harsh colors of the seats. Now seated, the server handed each of you menus and asked: “Can I get you anything to drink tonight?”
Gesturing towards Mirko with a nod, she acknowledged and looked towards the server: “Just water for me, please.” A gentle smile graced her face.
“Water for me as well. Thank you.”
Jotting down your requests, the server said: “Two waters coming right up.” She put her pen and paper away, then walked off with determination.
Opening the menu, you began scanning for what would satisfy both your mind and stomach. Line by line, you traced the lettering with your finger. Hm. No. No. Oh, what’s this? Pork chop and…applesauce? Sounds interesting. I think I’ll go with that, you thought, nodding with confidence in your choice. The menu was closed and placed on the table. You saw Mirko was still perusing her options, swiveling her head left and right as she held the menu up with both hands. Your view of her was obscured except for her tall, and very noticeable ears. Hearing heels clack against the floor, you peeked under the table to see her foot was bouncing rapidly. However, the surrounding ambience was noisy enough to where no one else could hear it. She sure is thinking hard over there.
While Mirko was browsing her options, you took the time to soak in the surrounding restaurant decor. There were no overhead lights. Only wall-mounted ones spaced around in a seemingly calculated manner for maximizing the lighting, each one shining in an opaque, glass globe. The walls were layered with bricks, colored similarly to sandstone, carrying the light across the room. And the floor was a glossy, grayish wood, noticeably marked by footprints from the workday. People filled the booths, appearing both older and around your age. Each person was dressed in clothes befitting of a casual office space. Hearing Mirko’s menu close, followed up with a sigh from her, you returned to facing forward and asked: “Got it all figured out?”
“Yup. I’m going to get a 16 ounce sirloin and a side of cooked carrots!” She licked her lips at just the thought of it.
“That was a long time for a simple choice,” you teased.
“Yeah,” scratching the side of her neck, “there were just too many options and I couldn’t pick, so I went with the most basic one in my mind.” She giggled with slight embarrassment and then pointed at you, placing an elbow on the table. “What about you? What are you getting?”
“I am getting the porkhop with applesauce,” you responded, placing your fingertips on your chest.
“That’s a thing? Seems like an odd combo,” said Mirko.
“That was my thought, too. And that is why I decided to choose it.”
With convenient timing, the server returned with your waters. You each grabbed your glasses from the server, placed them on small, red napkins and put straws in. Pulling out her pen and paper again, the server asked: “Are we ready to order?”
“Yes, I will have a 16 ounce sirloin, medium-rare, and a side of cooked carrots.”
“And I will have the pork chop with applesauce.”
“Okay, one 16 ounce, medium-rare sirloin with cooked carrots and one pork chop with applesauce. They’ll be out as soon as possible.” The server smiled as she retrieved the menus from your possession and walked off to serve other customers.
An awkward silence fell between you. Attempting to break the silence you both spoke simultaneously: “So—”
Recoiling with shared chuckles, you followed up with: “Sorry. What were you going to say?”
“Oh, nothing. You go ahead.” She waved her hand towards you as she sipped from her water.”
“Oh, okay. Well, I was going to ask what it’s like being a hero and all.” You brought your elbows to the table, clasping your fingers as you rested your chin upon them.
Nodding as she finished her sip, she said: “I had a feeling that would be your question.” Placing her hands back in her lap, she looked towards the ceiling as she gathered her thoughts. “Let’s see,” looking back down towards you after a momentary pause, “it’s incredibly fulfilling. I put in so much work and receive an equal reward through the appreciation of those I save. My abilities may seem useless on paper, but I am able to maximize it through my training, both out in the field and on personal time.” Her hand waved around as she explained her points. Her eyes occasionally left your gaze, but only for less than a second. You’re not sure how much time passed, but you felt it was time well spent. “And no matter how badly I get hurt, knowing the people I save get to live another day make up for it all. Some days are tough, for sure, but I love going out there, feeling the wind in my hair, and getting that rush. These people, they look up to me, and I need to make sure I am always at my best to save as many as possible. Sorry, I’m rambling, aren’t I?” Her hand reached the back of her head, scratching as she looked sideways with embarrassment.
“No, no, not at all,” waving your hands side to side, “I enjoyed your explanation. I think that’s awesome, and I can tell you are very passionate about it. You seem like a very good person.”
Mirko’s face turned red, not expecting the compliment. “O-oh, well, thank you. I have a lot of energy, so I end up dominating the conversations usually. Some people say I talk a lot.”
“I don’t think that at all. I always enjoy people speaking about their passions.”
Before Mirko could respond, your server appeared with a food tray. You both saw your meals on the elegant, white platters, each glistening as they emitted steam. Placing them in front of you and Mirko, the server instructed: “Okay, now please cut into the meat to check the color.”
“It’s perfect,” said Mirko.
“Same here,” you said.
“Awesome. Enjoy.” The server took the tray and left the table.
Looking towards your meals, you began to cut into them and eat. Mirko was taking on her steak with no issues. It was like witnessing a surgical procedure at record speeds. She is either really hungry, or just a fast eater. Anyway, time to see what this pork and applesauce combo is about, you thought. You cut a slice and dipped it in the small, tin ramekin of cinnamon applesauce provided. Biting down, your eyes widened. The sweet and savory combination filled your mouth with ecstasy. The applesauce moistened the pork, giving it a sweet bath along with its juicy flavors. As you were eating your meal, Mirko was eating her cooked carrots. When she bit down, her eyes rolled to the top of her head and she let out a moan as she chewed. Her body briefly relaxed. Seems like we are both enjoying our meals equally. After eating more of your meal, you looked at Mirko and asked: “How is your food?”
She pointed at her steak with her fork and nodded. Setting her knife down, she covered her mouth and answered: “Really, really good. You made a good call choosing this place.” She continued to eat, nearly finishing her dinner.
“Glad you’re enjoying it.” You ate your last bite, leaving only a little bit left on the plate, and pushed it slightly away from you. Mirko’s plate was empty, but you weren’t sure if you were surprised or not given the display from earlier. Both of you leaned into the backrest, letting your food begin to settle. After about a minute, you saw your server and hailed her down.
“I think we are ready for the bill.”
Nodding, she responded: “Okay. I’ll go get that now.”
You returned your gaze to Mirko. Closing her eyes, she smiled, revealing her glowing teeth. Something about her grin just made your mind feel fuzzy. It was an elated feeling—a warm feeling. You could not help but smile back softly. And your chest could not help but to pound. Beat! Beat! You raised your hand to your chest, lowering your eyes to where your hand was barely within view. The server returned, prompting you to lower your hand and raise your head to level.
“Okay, here you are,” the server said.
You reached your hand out and grabbed the receipt. Your eyes found the total, and pulled out the necessary amount in cash, including tip, and paid the server
“Thank you so much. Please come again.” The server then left for good
“You ready?” you asked.
Mirko responded with a single nod and grabbed her bag. You both began to shuffle out of the booth and stand up into the aisle. Briefly stretching after feeling stiff from sitting for so long, you both walked towards the entrance. The hostess expressed their thanks in the same way as the server as you opened the door. Exiting, you were greeted with a dark sky filled with translucent clouds sailing with the wind.
“It sure is windy. It came out of nowhere,” acknowledged Mirko. Her lengthy hair and earrings were blowing softly.
“It sure did.” You turned towards Mirko, pausing before speaking again. “So, I guess we’re about as even as can be.”
“Yes.” A thought spawned in Mirko’s mind, but she had no idea why. It just felt right. She pulled out her phone and said: “Hey, you should give me your number.” She spoke with absolute certainty. Not a trace of hesitation could be found in her body language.
“A-are you sure?” You were full of hesitation, however. You were simply not ready to hear those words. Why didn’t I accept her offer immediately? Am I that nervous? Or maybe it’s something else, you thought.
“I am. Here, type in your number,” she instructed as she handed you her phone. Your fingers hesitated initially, but you did as you were told and handed her phone back. “Sweet. I’ll be in touch. Thank you for tonight, by the way.” She put her phone back in her pocket.
“U-uh, yeah, anytime!” you said, rubbing the back of your neck.
“Well, see you later!” Mirko waved with a sizable grin and turned away, walking off. Her heels clacked against the concrete at the same pace that your heart beat. Beat! Beat! Beat! Beat! You couldn’t help but watch for a few extra seconds. Despite it being a pitch black sky, she shined like a beautiful comet. She was akin to a glistening star in the night. Feeling your phone vibrate, you pulled it up to your eyes and saw a message from an unknown number. The message was a single rabbit emoji. Smiling with fulfillment, you then turned the opposite direction, heading home—and thinking only about her.
A week had passed since the dinner. You brainstormed ideas of how to start a conversation with Mirko. The hours cumulated of you staring at the single rabbit emoji. Ideas spawned but were quickly dismissed. You don’t remember anything from that week besides the perpetual thought of her. Every notification drew your attention with great anticipation, followed by swift disappointment.
You heard your phone vibrate once again. A week of no further messaging left significant doubts it was her. Time to be disappointed again, you thought. Pulling up your phone, you read the notification: “New message from Mirko”. Your eyes widened and you felt your chest pound, quaking your entire being. Frozen—except for your flickering eyes—your mind bounced around excitedly.
Is this real? It has to be, right? What could she want?
You began pacing around your room as you tried to formulate a reason. Realizing you haven’t even read the message yet, you paused in your tracks, took a deep breath and tapped the message with your thumb.
Reading out loud to yourself: “Hey! Sorry about not texting sooner. I didn’t know what to say and got distracted by hero stuff. Anyway, I thought it would be fun to go bowling tonight and wanted to see if you were free. If not, that’s fine of course. I don’t know how busy you are. Just let me know when you can!” Your arms were flung wild with joy as you quietly shouted: “Yes. Yes. Yes.” Looking back at your phone, you almost started typing, but elected to wait a few minutes. I don’t want to come off as clingy, you thought.
Once the time passed, you typed and sent: “Hey! Yeah, that sounds like a lot of fun! What time do you want to meet up?” Two minutes passed before receiving Mirko’s next message, which read: “Does 7 P.M. work?” You quickly—but not too quickly—responded with: “That’s perfect. Is it the one on Main Street?” She replied: “Yes. See you there!” You put your phone down, letting out another huge sigh of relief. Your body was filled with a warm, fuzziness. You were high on attraction, but you could not comprehend the totality of your emotions. You only knew you were excited and began preparing for the night.
Entering the bowling alley, your eyes were met with an abundance of blue light shining from the ceiling on the lanes. As you walked across the thin, black carpet, you noticed there were only about 10 lanes, each with their own set of cheap, brown lounge chairs and a side table for food. Looking left to right, you noticed Mirko standing at the far end, waving her hand from her chair—happy to see you. You waved in response and began walking, approaching her with purpose in your steps. Getting closer, you saw she was wearing a white jumpsuit, sleeveless once again, with a square neck and wide, flowing hems. She was also wearing a silver necklace with a carrot-shaped pendant. Every aspect of her glowed a unique hue under the lighting. She really likes showing off her arms, huh? Well, I ain’t complaining.
“Hey! I am glad you could make it.” she said, still sitting in her chair.
“Yeah, I wasn’t doing anything, anyway. Thanks for inviting me.” You looked towards the reserved lane, pointing with your thumb, and asked: “Shall we get started?”
“Yes! You need your shoes, though. I’ll set up the game while you get your shoes.”
“Right. I’ll be back, then.” Nodding, you turned around and headed to the counter to retrieve your shoes. Returning to Mirko, you saw she just finished inputting your names and starting the game. You sat down and changed into the bowling shoes. Looking up, you saw Mirko’s face just a foot away from yours, causing your eyes to widen greatly. She wore a cocky— almost instigating—grin paired with her furrowed eyebrows. Her hands were on her hips as she hinged at them.
“So, are you ready to lose?” she asked.
“The only one losing will be you,” you answered, hands still on your shoelaces, nodding towards her with emphasis.
“Oh, is that so?” She stood upright, crossing her arms. “Then why don’t we make this interesting. If I win, you have to shout ‘I am Mirko’s biggest fan’ outside, and if you win…I’ll tell you my real name. How’s that?”
Mirko isn’t her real name? I guess that makes sense after thinking about it.
After standing up and considering the offer, you extended your arm out for a handshake. “Deal.” Grabbing Mirko’s hand, you gripped softly, unprepared for her strong grip. Immediately, you squeezed harder to save your own hand.
“Oh, sorry about that. Sometimes I forget my own strength,” she said, acknowledging the exchange.
“Or…you are just trying to create an advantage for yourself,” you teased.
“Am not!” Mirko’s face was lightly flustered at the accusation. Her foot stomped, echoing within the alley along with her voice. Her arms shot straight down.
You continued your teasing with light theatrics, holding your wrist and dramatically saying: “Oh, my poor hand. Whatever shall I do?”
She chuckled. “That’s it. You’re going down.” She grabbed a bowling ball from the rack and lined up her shot. She inhaled, inflating her chest, then exhaled a calming breath. Taking a step as she swung the ball backward, she rolled the ball with a controlled, yet great power. Your eyes followed the ball with every rotation it took along the slick, glossy wood. The sound of struck bowling pins filled the alley. Your eyes saw the result, but you checked the game screen to confirm the outcome. It read: “Strike!” Looking up at Mirko, she stuck her tongue out as she shook her head. A smile grew arrogantly and she instructed: “Beat that.”
Silently, you grabbed a ball and prepared to roll it. You concentrated your breathing like Mirko, and did your best to clear your mind. However, she dominated every corner of it. Feeling as good as can be, you flung the ball with your best effort, but not with great focus. Come on. Come on. Come on, you thought. You held your breath as it moved, but when you noticed it spun off target just slightly, it struck the pins, leaving only three in the corner. So, it's that kind of night, huh? You grabbed another ball and rolled it, striking the remaining pins down. Reluctantly, you turned towards Mirko as you walked back to the chair and Mirko was sitting there, pompously.
“I just wasn’t focused. I’ll show you next turn.”
“I sure hope so. I don’t want this to be a boring victory,” she said, continuing to prod. She repeated the exact same procedure she performed in the first frame—achieving yet another strike.
It was so hard to believe she was the same person you had dinner with. The same person who saved your life. The same person who showed a slight weakness in front of you. And yet, it was the most exhilarating experience. Your adrenaline was pumping and her competitive nature fueled your fire. It was hypnotizing and you contemplated letting her win to see even more of this side of her. The way her hair flowed as she sent her ball down the lane, the way she walked with swagger, and the way she smiled filled your body with warmth. You couldn’t help but smile as well.
As she walked back, she looked towards you, hoping to see a face full of concern. Instead she asked: “And just what are you smiling about?” She wore her grin as if it was a permanent feature. “Do you enjoy losing?”
“Only to someone like you.”
Her grin was wiped away in an instant. Her face flushed with redness and her demeanor was no longer boastful. Turning to hide her emotions, she waved you off and said: “J-just take your turn.”
You exhaled from your nostrils, closing your eyes and opening them as you rose from your chair while using your knees as support. Walking towards the lane with your bowling ball in hand, you lined up and launched the ball. You nodded once, proud of your strike. Turning to see Mirko’s status, she was lost in thought. Her hand was twirling her hair while she thought with the other as it rested on her cheek. You walked over and said: “It’s your turn.”
“O-oh, right,” she slapped her cheeks as an attempt to refocus and stood up, looking towards the scoreboard. “Oh, you finally decided to score big, huh? No matter. If I just keep getting strikes, then I will win, regardless.” She nodded to reassure herself. As she prepared once again to throw the ball down the lane, her mind became distracted as she swung and released. She stared with anticipation, watching the ball knock down every pin—except one.
She walked back to get her bowling ball to finish her turn, glaring at you menacingly like a hawk. Her pupils shrunk and her face was solely filled with borderline antagonism. You could sense the tension rising with each passing second. This was serious!
I better watch myself, you thought.
The game continued with a near constant back and forth score. After the second frame, Mirko did not smile or poke fun for the rest of the game. She was completely focused on winning and every moment, every fiber in her very being was used to contribute to winning. The only reason she was not dominating was the seed planted in her mind by you. When she scored strikes, you attempted to encore her with claps and words of encouragement, but you were only met with semi-deadly stares. Often she would just sit down and proceed to stare at you. Her body language was that of a statue. She rested her arms on her knees and practically stared into your soul. It felt as if two massive eyes were hovering, watching over you. You attempted to glance at her, but her eyes shook you to your core, causing your reflexes to avoid eye contact until further notice.
It was now the tenth frame, and the outcome was to be determined by your turn. A strike would make you the winner, and you were in the zone. The ball was a puppet, and you were the master. The walk up to the lane was incredibly long to you. What was maybe 10 steps, felt like 100. What should I do? Do I lose on purpose? Do I play normally and let the universe decide? After thinking for a solid minute at least, you nodded, trusting fate with the answer. Exhaling out any worries in your mind, you swung the ball for the last time and let go. The ball rolled straight as an arrow. A strike was imminent. The ball rotated with great speed, causing it to knock over every pin—except the two corner pins. You exhaled with relief, bending slightly as you placed your hands on your knees. A slight wince occurred as you strained your now sore forearm. Rising, you turned to see Mirko also sighing with relief and returning a comforting smile.
“Good game. Sorry if I came across as scary. I am extremely competitive.”
“I noticed,” you laughed. “I guess I have to go shout outside now, right?”
“No, I was joking about that. You don’t owe me anything. You paid your due with an excellent game.”
“I wasn’t expecting it to be that close. But, I was also surprised at how good you were,” you admitted.
“Yeah, I take everything I get exposed to super seriously. It’s a bad habit of mine,” she explained, rubbing the back of her neck.
“There are worse habits to have. Anyway, let’s get out of here.”
Mirko nodded and you both began changing out of your bowling shoes. Upon exiting the mostly empty bowling alley, you cupped your hands around your lips and shouted towards the sky: “I am Mirko’s biggest fan.”
Bewildered, Mirko asked: “What are you doing? You didn’t have to do that?”
“But it’s true,” you replied seriously.
A deep blush permeated throughout her face. Her body squirmed slightly, appearing conflicted between displaying embarrassment and affection. Looking to the side and grabbing her elbow—rubbing up and down—she spoke: “Rumi.”
“What?” you asked, not quite catching what she said.
“My name. It’s Rumi. Rumi Usagiyama,” she said, now staring directly into your eyes.
“Oh, I like that name a lot. It fits you well.”
“T-thank you. You really are too kind,” she said softly, blushing even more.
“Ah, it’s nothing. You’re welcome.”
Checking your phone, you saw the time and knew you both should head home.
“Well, I had a lot of fun tonight. Thank you again for inviting me. Let’s stay in touch!”
Her face perked up with excitement. “Yes! Let’s!”
After agreeing to communicate more often, you headed your separate ways, both filled with something brewing inside that neither of you could quite comprehend just yet: love.
The very next day, Rumi began the communication streak by asking how you were doing during her lunch break. The messages started off as just simple daily checkups. Within the week, you were getting to know each other well, becoming closer and closer by the day. However, there hasn’t been another meetup since the night at the bowling alley. Usually someone was busy and the timing never seemed to work out. But the stars would align again soon.
About a month has passed with many attempts to see each other once again. It was a bright, yet cool Saturday morning. The autumn weather was setting in. As you watched some morning TV, you saw an advertisement for a movie you have been eyeing and learned it just released in theaters yesterday. Picking up your phone, you messaged Rumi: “Hey! There’s a movie that just released in theaters yesterday and I was wondering if you were able to see it tonight?” After waiting for 10 minutes, your phone buzzed. You sat up rapidly. A message from Rumi appeared, reading: “Yes, I’d love to! For once, I have nothing to do today. What time is it at and what genre is it?” You formed a fist and pumped it against the air violently as an act of celebration. Grabbing your phone to type, you replied: “Great! It’s at 5:30 P.M. and it’s a horror movie. I’ll see you in a few hours!” Rumi’s reply read: “Sounds good. See you soon!”
Rumi was leaning against a brick wall near the ticket booth. She was staring at her phone in her left hand while her right hand was snug inside her cropped, faux leather, red jacket’s pocket. Underneath the jacket was a simple, white tank top. Her legs wore plain, black leggings and for shoes she wore red running shoes. Out of her peripheral vision, she saw you approach and put her phone away. Waving with a big smile, she powerwalked towards you.
“Hey! It’s good to see you. It feels like it’s been a year,” she complained.
“Yeah, it certainly has been a while,” checking your phone for the time, “but we should head inside. The movie will start soon.”
“Oh, right! Did you bring snacks? I did,” she said softly, pulling out her candy in her jacket just enough to be visible to you.
“You sneak candy into theaters? Aren’t you a hero?” you asked, donning a look of concern as your eyebrows lowered.
“Of course! Those prices inside are pure evil. I’m fighting the good fight,” she argued, nodding her head. You could tell she has been sneaking candy in for a long time.
Approaching the ticket booth, you asked for the tickets and promptly paid for them. Rumi’s hands did not leave her pockets, keeping her candy secure and quiet. Entering the lobby with your tickets, you handed them to the usher. They analyzed your tickets and said: “Your movie is to the right in theater eight. Enjoy!”
After passing the usher, Rumi looked at you and asked: “Do you need any snacks? I can pay.”
“I’ll be fine. Let’s go get to our seats. I want to watch the previews.”
“Okay!” Rumi followed you, keeping close and matching your pace. It was a semi-long hall featuring mustard-painted walls that met halfway with a black wood border. Along the wall hung movie posters, both old and new blockbusters. The floor was a checkered light and dark gray carpet riddled with crumbs. At the end of the hall was a cardboard cutout of the newest action movie, showing multiple explosions and intense men driving customized cars. After walking midway, you found the door to your theater and allowed Rumi to enter first with a kind gesture of your arms.
Following her, the seats came into view, and almost every seat was filled, without including your seats. Walking up to the top seats, you shuffled as if you were on a tightrope to get to the middle. After the brief struggle, you both sat down and got comfortable, leaning deep into the soft, leather cushions of the recliners. As you finished getting situated, you heard Rumi quietly say: “Best seats in the house.” You let out a small exhale of air filled with humor in response. The previews began rolling shortly after, though none of them piqued either of your interests.
Once the lights in the theater were turned off, Rumi brought out her snack and began to eat. She offered a few pieces to you, which you accepted with thanks, and then the movie began screening.
Two hours later, the movie ended. You both rose out of your chairs and exited the theater, throwing away the bag that once held candy, and walked back towards the lobby. You didn’t notice it while it was dim, but she was visibly shaken.
“A-are you good? Did you get scared that badly?” you asked with great concern. Finding a bench, you guided her towards it. “Here, have a seat. Let’s just take a breather.” Your hand was on her back instinctively, gently massaging without even thinking as you occupied the bench. Rumi had her arms crossed, holding her elbows, and her eyes were full of fear. “Rumi. Look at me. I need you to look at me.” Her head turned towards yours, twitching her eyes and cheeks sporadically. “Are you good?”
“I-I’m f-fine. I’m just c-cold.”
You knew she was trying to play it off. After all, how could a hero be scared of a movie? You moved closer, wrapping your arm around her shoulder without thinking. Moving your face within a few inches of hers, you attempted to calm her. “It was just a movie. None of it was real or will ever be real.” You began to wave your hand as you spoke. “You deal with much worse when you’re working.” Upon hearing your logical words, she began to shake less and less.
Nodding to herself, she agreed: “Y-you’re right. That was nothing. And it wasn’t real at all.” She exhaled a loud sigh of relief, collected herself, and looked towards you. “Thank you for calming me down.” Her warm embrace followed. It was a confiding hug—a hug that found safety within. Initially caught off guard, you reciprocated with your own as your arms coiled around her frame. Your face was nearly as red as her jacket, and your heart was pounding. Once the moment passed, Rumi began to giggle, and then eventually laughed. “I can’t believe I got scared like that. I am such a wuss.”
“It was a pretty scary movie, but I am more accustomed to them I guess.”
“Perhaps, yeah. T-thank you again.” A small silence formed before she continued, as if she was confirming her thoughts. “Shall we get going, then?”
“No problem. And yeah, sure.”
Leaving the theater, you walked Rumi to her car. She seemed reserved as she walked. Maybe she was still somewhat shaken from the movie, you thought. The lot was dimly lit and the nearest person was near the ticket booth—a good 50 meters away. Upon approaching the car, Rumi turned around.
“Well, until next time, right?” you reluctantly asked.
“Yeah. Until next time.” She paused to think briefly. “Actually, there is something I wanted to ask.” Her heart rate began to rise steadily. She appeared bashful, more so than ever before. Twiddling her fingers, she looked down and then back up into your eyes. “I-I think I love you,” she stated, pushing her hair back with one hand. “So…do you want to be...a couple?” Her scarlet eyes were glimmering with anticipation and hope.
Releasing the breath you held, you quickly answered: “Yes!” Butterflies filled your stomach and your body was brimming with warm fuzziness. “I-I love you, too.”
“Really?” Her face lit up with joy. Her eyes widened—pupils dialting—and her smile grew ear to ear, emitting an audible gasp. Her hands came together, clapping as she bounced on her toes with glee.
You both quickly entered each other’s arms and squeezed with newfound love. Both your hearts echoed throughout your bodies in unison. Your faces were red, not with blush, but from smiling intensely as happiness filled your cheeks, puffing them out noticeably.
Retracting from the hug—still holding each other at your shoulders, you both looked at each other and giggled. Rumi then put her hand on the back of your head and gently brought your forehead to hers. You mirrored her hand placement. Closing your eyes together, Rumi said angelically: “I love you.”
“I love you, too, Rumi.”
From that night on, you were officially a couple—impossible to separate. You made time to sit and eat lunch together during her working days. You often barely spoke as she talked about her day and every moment she found exciting. It didn’t matter though, because seeing her happy was the real prize. Rumi began to work harder to make time for any potential dates or just simply enjoying company in your, at the time, separate apartments.
Two months later, during one of these apartment hangouts, Rumi suggested: “Why don’t we get a place to ourselves? My lease is expiring soon.” And the rest was history. You have been living together ever since, improving the quality of life tenfold. While Rumi handled things at work, you maintained the apartment and cooked food. Everyday, Rumi would come home, ecstatic to be within arm’s reach of you for the rest of the day. Despite being in a primarily stay-at-home role, everyday felt new and exciting with her. Her stories and personality captivated your mind, body, and soul. You knew you just had to put a ring on her finger. With a ring in mind, you often performed freelance work to save up money while Rumi was away for the day. After a year and nine months of becoming a couple, you felt you had saved enough and you asked Rumi a simple question: “Would you like to go ring shopping?”
Rumi was relaxing on the couch in a royal purple pajama set lined with white edges. when she heard the question. Taking a few heartbeats to process the question, her body instantly went from resting to full-blown astonishment. It was as if her very being broke into shards of glass and repaired itself. Her eyes flickered rapidly like a strobe light, and her jaw dropped, filling with a question. You saw her eyebrows raised almost to the top of her hairline and her hands clutching onto the couch as if she was bracing.
“W-what did you just say?” She spoke with high attentiveness. She knew what her brain had heard, but she had to confirm it with her heart.
A smile was born on your lips. You looked down to gather yourself for the courageous question. Looking back up, staring intently into her widened eyes as they reflected your image, you asked: “Would you like to go ring shopping?”
She faced forward on the couch, slowly clutching a pillow against her chest, and brought her knees up towards her. You paused, wondering just what is about to happen. A sign of concern began to encroach your features. Suddenly, Rumi began to wail. She planted her face into the pillow, not to muffle her cries, but to soak her tears. You calmly rushed to her side, wrapping your arms around her.
“Hey. Hey. What’s wrong? What’s the matter?” You spoke with a careful and calm tone.
Raising her head, she did her best to speak coherently, occasionally getting choked up. “It-it-it’s just,” wiping her tears, “the f-fact that you care so much to ask me to choose what I w-w-want.” She exhaled a small burst of air as it proved difficult to speak. “Y-you really are too kind,” she said, stroking your cheek. You reciprocated, wiping her tears away with your finger, then held her hand as it graced your face.
“How about we go tomorrow, so you have plenty of time to confirm what you want? Does that work?”
Rumi nodded slowly. She let the pillow fall to the floor and leaned forward into your arms. You held her gently, playing with her hair and rubbing her toned back as your chin rested over her shoulder.
“I love you,” said Rumi.
“I love you, too.”
The next day, you both headed towards the jewelry store around 10 in the morning. It was a warm day with partly cloudy skies, which was accompanied by a soothing breeze. Rumi was wearing an olive green sundress with tiny carrots and bunnies patterned all over, paired with tan sandals and a straw hat with holes to accommodate her lengthy rabbit ears. As you walked to the jewelry store, you occasionally glanced at Rumi, noticing her thinking to herself. There she goes again, always bringing her hand to her chin when she is contemplating something, you thought. You grabbed hold of her hand and squeezed, grounding and reminding her of your presence and to not overthink it. She smiled, appreciating your considerate gesture.
Upon entering the store, you were both in awe at the displays. Expensive necklaces lined the vertical cabinets against the walls. Rows of watches, earrings, and rings dominated the center aisles. A few tables with pearls and bracelets stood near the entrances. All of the jewelry resided in glass cases lined with a blueish-gray linen fabric. Pure white fluorescents lined the ceilings, highlighting and emphasizing every dimension and surface of the accessories. An employee walked up, saying: “Hello and welcome. Are you looking for anything specific today?”
Looking towards Rumi, she shook her head in response. “Um, not right now, but we will let you know if we need help,” you said, nodding.
As you walked towards the ring displays, you whispered: “How come you didn’t want help?”
“I want to look for myself first. And besides, I have a gut feeling about this,” she answered, wearing a straight face.
Approaching the ring displays, the first kind that was witnessed were the gold rings. Bending slightly at her hip, her eyes gazed into the display. Rumi stared intently at each option; she studied the rhinestone placements; she analyzed the different jewels and sizes; she took note of how the ring shapes worked together with the stones. Now standing tall, Rumi held out her left hand, envisioning a gold ring and the potential stone to compliment her. She considered how the ring would pair with her personality—if any one of these rings were truly meant to be worn by her. She hummed with thought, tilting her head side to side, holding her free hand on her chin, and squinting her eyes with intense focus. You stood there silently, wondering exactly what she was pondering. After a few more seconds, Rumi lowered her arms to her side and shook her head. Looking at you, she said: “Let’s check out the silver rings.” She grabbed your hand and guided you to the opposite side of the aisle.
Alright. Same song and dance. I wonder if she will make a decision, you thought. Rumi began the same process, though, she seemed to be taking longer with each step. Does she like silver more? She has a good mix of both at home and never mentioned it before. Her palm covered her entire chin and lips, her fingers wrapping up her supple cheeks. She was humming a lot more frequently and loudly. I’m not sure if I have ever seen her this deep in thought before. Slowly, she moved across the display. You estimated she took twice as long as the gold rings. Extending her arm out once again, she looked back and forth between the rings and her left hand. To your surprise, she lowered her arms much sooner than before. She turned towards you, inhaled a deep breath, and said: “I found it.”
“Are you absolutely sure?” you asked. “This is a once in a lifetime decision.”
Nodding, she answered: “I have never been more certain.”
Recognizing the body language of your conversation, a nearby employee approached and asked: “Did you find something you like?”
“I sure did,” said Rumi.
“Great. Which one?” The employee began unlocking the display as she followed Rumi’s finger to the ring. “Ah, excellent choice.” They pulled it out carefully, and handed it to Rumi.
Rumi grabbed the ring with her index finger and thumb, rotating it under the ceiling lights. Straightening her fingers, she placed it carefully on her ring finger. It was a touch loose, sliding on somewhat easily. She extended her hand again, ensuring it was to her liking across the board. She then brought her hand to you, asking: “What do you think?”
The ring was a sheen silver with a square diamond crowning it. The diamond itself, mostly clear and precisely carved to amplify refractions of light, appeared much bigger than actuality due to the thinness of the ring itself. To the sides of the diamond were intersecting branches, each possessing rhinestones throughout the repeating pattern. It was a beautiful ring—fit for a beautiful girl. After studying the ring and how it fit on her hand, you looked up with affirming eyes and replied: “It’s perfect.”
After paying for the ring order and exiting the shop, you planned to pick it up in a month, giving you enough time to plan where and when the proposal would take place, all of which was unknown to Rumi, of course.
“Thank you for taking me today. I loved every second of it,” admitted Rumi.
“And I loved being there with you. Let’s go home and have the rest of the day to ourselves. Maybe we can watch a movie or something.”
“Yeah, that sounds good.” Her face was riddled with pure bliss.
You needed every second to plan out the date, and it had to be as perfect as can be.
This is not going to be easy, but I think I know what I will do, you thought.
As the two-year anniversary of your relationship blossoming approached, you planted a seed for the proposal. You knew it would not be a complete surprise. Regardless, your plan was set and it had to be executed. You were both eating lunch at a sushi bar when you set the plan in motion.
“Hey, Rumi. I have an idea for our second anniversary date.”
Her eyes and ears piqued with curiosity, raising slightly, but attentively. Swallowing her food, she asked: “What’s your idea?”
You ate another piece of sushi and washed it down with water. “Let’s go horseback riding. We can do it in a nearby canyon about two hours away.”
“Oh, that sounds like so much fun! Let’s do it!” Her face lit up with excitement as she took another bite. She began to eat faster, as if she was an eating machine. Taking her last bite, she slammed her chopsticks down on the table. “Now I’m pumped! Hey, I need to burn this energy off somehow. Want to go workout?” Both of her palms were flat on the table and her eyes screamed that she was raring to go.
“Sure, but give me a minute to finish,” you said with a slight concern for yourself. I hope I can survive her workout, you thought. The clock starts now!
The day finally arrived. It was the morning of the proposal, unbeknownst to Rumi, of course. She was suspicious, but had no evidence to prove it. She would prod with reserved questions about the date, but did not interrogate. She wanted to be surprised, herself.
You both got ready for the small trip, packing essentials such as water, snacks, and sunscreen, and dressing for the occasion. Can’t forget to pack the ring. Rumi dressed in a green and white flannel, blue jeans, and brown, leather cowgirl boots that had floral designs wrapped around. No jewelry. After locking up, you both entered the car and began driving towards the canyon.
Approaching the destination after 90 minutes on the road, the terrain noticeably became flatter, still supporting a variety of flora with both stubby and average-sized trees. Grass still filled the horizons, but a noticeable dust was apparent as it was picked up in the wind. The drive itself was easy due to lack of cars and the lack of curves in the concrete road. You both enjoyed the change of scenery, pointing out any non-city wildlife and unique landmarks.
“Have you ever ridden a horse before?” you asked.
Shaking her head, she answered: “Nope.” Her head turned towards you, looking into your peripheral vision. “Have you?”
“I have not, either. I guess this will be a unique experience for us.” You looked towards her, grabbing her hand and squeezing gently. Oh, it will be unique, for sure, you thought.
“Looks that way. It’s going to be so much fun,” she said, holding onto your hand and smiling softly.
Finally, you reached the entrance and pulled into the small parking lot. No horse stables in sight. Exiting the car with your belongings, you walked towards the entrance where a map of the trails was provided, both on paper and painted on a large sign.
“Oh, I see. The stables are just inside after a short walk,” you observed, pointing out the location on the sign. “Looks like it is about a 10 minute walk.” Turning to Rumi, you put the paper map away and asked: “Ready to go?”
“Yep. Let the date commence!” She pointed towards the entrance and began to powerwalk, leaving you behind swiftly. “Come on! We are burning daylight.”
Catching up to Rumi, you entered the canyon. The trail was a moderate decline, paved by visitors such as yourselves. The view of the canyon endured past the horizon. A flat layer of pale green grass covered the natural basin, occasionally broken up by patches of dry land, red dirt, and rocks. Trees were uncommon, primarily existing along the edges of the cliffs. Dark green bushes dominated the land, appearing as if someone spilled them all. The skies were mostly clear, and the sun was beaming down upon all life within the canyon. Looking down into the basin, you noticed arrow-shaped signs. Halfway through your walk to the stables, you came across one, indicating to head right, hugging the edge of the canyon. Following the trail, walking across the dirt trail with care, you approached the stables.
Hearing your approach, the stableman approached, greeting you two with: “Welcome. Are you two wanting to enjoy a ride on some horses?”
“We are. Are there any available to ride?” asked Rumi.
“There are indeed, ma’am,” the stableman said as they waved towards the horses. “Follow me. I’ll get you situated, and then we can begin the ride.”
Getting near the horses, you were handed helmets (Rumi’s helmet fit snugly between her ears) and the explanation began: “Okay. So the most important thing to remember is these are animals. They are in charge, and let you steer them. When you’re steering them, you really need to pull in what direction you want, whether it’s left, right, or to stop. And if you need to increase speed, smack your heels into their sides. No need to be too gentle. They can take it. Any questions?” Shaking your heads, you were then assisted up onto the horses.
“This is surreal. They seem much larger when you’re riding on the back of one,” you said.
“Totally. It’s going to take me a while to get comfortable,” said Rumi. “What’s this one’s name?”
“That there is Shootin’ Star,” turning to point at you, “and your horse is Misty.” The stableman got on their horse and walked it towards you both. “Remember now, let the horses do most of the work. They know to follow each other.” The stableman turned their horse towards the trail. “Okay, let’s get going.” They said, signaling to follow.
The trail ran along the edge of a cliff. It was wide enough for car traversal and ramped upwards to attain maximum viewing pleasure. There was no foliage along the trail, as that would mess with the pathing for the horses and potentially obscure any scenery. Rumi’s horse led in front of yours as you followed. Her horse was mostly black, with huge, white spots around its body, and a short, black mane ending between its ears. Your horse was gray, with hints of black spots. The legs were mostly black and the main was pure white that flowed graciously. You were both gripping the reins tightly, still learning to trust the horses. To distract your mind, you shouted towards Rumi: “How are you holding up?”
She turned her head over her shoulder. “I am doing fine. My horse is treating me well, I’d say. And you?”
“Same here,” you responded. After about 30 minutes of riding, you were both adjusted to your horses. Able to safely control the speed, you sped up to walk along the right side of Rumi. “So, are you having fun yet?” you asked half-jokingly, attempting to elicit a response.
“Of course, silly. Everything so far has been great.” A kind smile spread through her cheeks and her scarlet eyes glowed as they received the beaming sunlight.
“Hey! We’re going to take a break. This is a nice spot for some scenic views. You can walk near an edge over there by the fencing,” the stableman said, pointing.
You both halted your horses and carefully dismounted from the saddles, removing your helmets. The stableman gathered the reins and tied them to a hitching post. Meanwhile, you walked towards the fenced edge and marveled at the view. You filled your mouths with awe. The sun casted grand shadows over the opposite edge of the cliff on the other side of the basin. From here, the entire canyon was within view. You could see every river, every unique rock formation, every tree, and how they interacted with each other. The sunlight bounced off the layered rock walls, illuminating the canyon with a beautiful red hue that contrasted with the floor of grass and bushes. It was a painting that came to life.
This is it. This is the moment!
Stepping back, you unzipped your bag, saying: “I’m going to get some water out. Do you want any?” Your heart was uncontrollably beating. B-BEAT! B-BEAT! B-BEAT! You were mentally rehearsing what you had planned to say at lightning speeds. Everything was happening all at once—all within the span of a few heartbeats.
Still gazing outward, Rumi responded: “Yes, please. I am parched.”
You grabbed the engagement ring box, turned towards Rumi’s back, and took a knee.
Curious as to why you took so long, Rumi turned around. She gasped, covering her mouth with both hands. Her knees began to feel weak as she started to cry.
“Rumi, you are the light of my life. You are the reason I wake up everyday with a smile on my face. Every single day is a new adventure, and you treat me so well, so kindly. I could not ask for a better partner. You make me so happy and I love you more than anything.”
Rumi’s eyes were now watering, flowing down her face like a heavy downpour. Her hands still glued to her face as she listened to your words. Her features became more and more red, blushing from excitement and affection. She held her breath as she awaited the ultimate question.
“Rumi Usagiyama, will you marry me?”
You opened the box to reveal the ring. It glistened beautifully under the natural daylight. Rumi nodded almost uncontrollably. You rose forward, embracing her with a powerful hug. You could feel tears becoming damp stains on your shoulder as she hugged you. Quickly retracting from the hug, you took out the ring from the box. Rumi held her left hand out and you slowly, assuredly, slid the ring on her finger. She took a look at it briefly, then immediately grabbed your head with both hands. Your lips collided, forming a deep, passionate connection of your bodies, your hearts—your souls. Your hands mirrored hers as you kissed back with intense fervor. Releasing from the kiss, you both collected your breaths and rejoined your lips, kindling the intense flame of love between you. Rumi pulled away, hands still on your head, and met her forehead with yours. Eyes still shut, she spoke softly, yet proud: “I love you so, so much.”
Your eyes still shut as well, you responded with equal emotion: “I love you just as much.”
You held her hands together.
“Here’s to new beginnings.”