Six.

When she was little, she expected some huge proposal. Maybe at a fancy restaurant, where her ring would be hiding at the bottom of her glass. Maybe during a dream vacation, her would-be fiancé down on one knee in front of the ocean or on top of a mountain. She pictures getting engaged a hundred different ways. In front of her parents. In a museum, surrounded by art. A banner pulled by an airplane. At a concert of her favorite band. Privately at home, like how Roy had done.

She never expected the man of her dreams to be down on one knee during a break from work, in front of a gas station, in the pouring rain.

But, she quickly found out, she couldn’t have asked for anything more. She suddenly didn’t care about fireworks or fancy dinners or some made up resort her preteen brain had made up. Because Jim was there, and he said he couldn’t wait any longer and he asked her to marry him and she said yes.

She was a little upset that he had to go back to Scranton, but he had promised to drive back up as soon as he got off. So, now she’s sitting in her dorm room, eagerly waiting for the knock on her door that announces his arrival. She’s about to text him for the eighteenth time since she got back to school when he knocks. She jumps out of bed, throwing the door open and kissing him before he could greet her.

He doesn’t seem to mind, though, as he leads her back into the room, closing the door behind them. She pulls back, cupping his face and looks up at him. She couldn’t wipe the stupid grin off her face even if she wanted to. “We’re getting married.”

He nods, his grin just as big as hers, “We are.”

She pecks his lips before wrapping her arms around his waist, resting her chin against his chest. “I love you.”

He kisses her forehead, his hands resting on her arms, just below her shoulders. “I love you, too.”

She buries her face in his chest, mumbling, “We’re getting married.”

He chuckles, “You already said that.”

“I know. I just can’t believe it.”

His fingers lift her chin so he can look at her. His eyes are full of disbelief and adoration and just pure love. His voice is soft, and she knows everything he’s thinking when he says, “Me neither.”

She pours hot water into two mismatched mugs, the water turning a light brown as the tea slowly dissolves. She doesn’t use the teal teapot very often, usually keeping it on the counter as a daily reminder of what she now has. She uses it for special occasions, though, like today. She hands Jim his mug before crawling back into bed, practically sitting in Jim’s lap so they can both fit on the single bed. He wraps his free hand around her waist, slipping it under his t-shirt that she had changed into so his thumb can rub tiny circles against her skin. She leans into him as she sips from her mug, the warmth of the tea incomparable to the warmth she has felt since Jim got down on one knee. Really, since he asked her out to dinner for the first time.

He kisses the top of her head and then says, “I have a very important question for you.”

She chuckles, “You already asked me an important question today.”

“This one is wayyyy more important.”

She looks up at him with an eyebrow raised, “What?”

He tries to look serious, but she can see the corners of his lips fighting a smile, “Am I going to have to stop calling you Beesly?”

He gives into his grin when she laughs and leans up to kiss him softly. She pulls back just enough to say, “No, you don’t.”

“Good. I don’t think I’d be able to even if you wanted me to.”

“You’re crazy.”

“For you.”

She rolls her eyes, but she grabs his mug out of his hand and sets both cups onto the table next to her bed before she turns back to him. She wraps her arms around his neck, tangling her fingers into his hair as she kisses him, lying back and pulling him on top of her.