And don't expect too much, okay?
'Cause the best or worst might have passed anyway
And like the light house we watched
It spun 'round and 'round
There's just some things
They aren't meant to touch the ground.

***

I. It’s the subtle laugh that will keep ringing.

It’s early morning, but they’ve been up all night so they’re full of that strange energy that comes before complete exhaustion. The sheets of the bed are rustling all around them as he tickles her sides. She laughs so loudly she’s sure she just woke up the people above them. They’re both kicking their legs and flopping around on the mattress and she feels young and happy and like she’s defying gravity.

She manages to crawl away from his grasp, clutching the side of the mattress, but then his warm, rough palm is on her calf, reeling her back in. He’s sitting up now and the side of her body crashes into his chest as she laughs again. Then his mouth is pressed against her ear and she feels his smile there, feels his skin all over hers, and he’s saying in a voice that’s filled with light and love, his teeth grazing her skin, “Marry me.”

Then things stop suddenly and the room is quiet, just the sounds of their heavy breathing. She looks at him, his hands now covering hers and their legs tangled together somewhere under the sheets. His breath comes out long and slow against her cheek and she can’t say anything right then so she leans forward, pressing her forehead into the crook of his neck. He smells like sweat and salt and the events of their sleepless night. She gently presses her lips against his collar bone, moving along until she reaches his heart and leaves her lips there for a moment to feel the (not quite so) steady lub-a-dub. Then she pulls back and looks at him, “Yes. I love you. God- Yes.”

There’s a moment then where his eyes don’t move from her face and then he grins slowly and tackles her again, his fingers seeking out those sensitive areas of skin.

He has her pinned down on the mattress, her arms over her head and her curls fanned out behind her. He ducks down to kiss her and then pulls away and says, “I don’t have a ring yet.”

She nods, “That’s fine.” And she tries to lift her head so she can kiss him, but he’s out of reach.

“I wasn’t planning on proposing right then. It just sort of came out.”

“Are you trying to back out of this already?” She move beneath him just a little, trying to get comfortable and he relaxes his grip on her arms just a bit.

“Not at all. I just-”

“It’s fine,” she says more firmly this time, craning her neck again to try and kiss him, but he’s still too far and he’s still thinking things through.

“You sure you didn’t want some grandiose proposal with dinner and candles and an actual ring that I could put on your finger right now.”

She grins up at him, “Oh, so that’s what this is about…”

He laughs softly, “What?”

“You wanted to immediately put that ring on my finger and show everyone that I’m yours,” she bends her knees so they’re pressing against his hips and smiles coyly at him.

“Okay, maybe a little. And, I mean, this only happens one time. I only get to really propose to you once and that’s how it happened? In the middle of Tickle Fest ‘08?”

She turns her head so she can kiss the inside of his wrist since he isn’t letting her really kiss him. “It was perfect, Jim. It was you and me. It was just how it should’ve been.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

He looks down at her still, his face serious and his eyes locked with hers. “I love you so much. You know that, right? You know that I would marry you in a volcano if you wanted to.”

She laughs, her body arching forward towards his. “A volcano?”

He smiles that smile that makes her want to cry because she never thought she could make someone this happy, “I would marry you in liquid hot magma, Pam. This is serious stuff, stop laughing.”

“I’m sorry. You’re right. Very serious business. I suppose the bridesmaids would have to wear orange and red then, huh?”

“Obviously.”

And then he finally bends his head down enough so that she can meet him halfway and when she kisses him, she feels him shaking a little and she presses her knees harder against his hips and when her head hits the pillow again, she says, “I would marry you on a glacier.”

His laughter gets trapped beneath her skin and between the bedroom walls and in the corners of the ceiling- everywhere.