She pushed off with her feet, on the old rickety swing in their backyard. She hummed something sweet about lost love, new love, and the sky.
He gripped the velvet box in his pocket, sweat dampened the collar of his shirt. She glanced, anxiously in his direction. He took a tentative step forward.
He concentrated on how the little gold hoop in her ear caught the light and how her eyes crinkled with amusement. She was laughing at him.
He attempted to smile but produced an unflattering grimace. She discreetly covered her pursed lips as her amusement deepened.
He struggled to clear his throat and swallow through the fields of cotton.
Before he knew it, he was standing over her. He could smell the familiar lavender scent, that always accompanies her shiny dark coils. He marveled at how her skin twinkled when the light touched it. She stared at him, curiously. A smile tugged at the corners of her lips.
He couldn’t tell if he dropped his knee or collapsed on the wet earth. He awkwardly yanked the velvet box out of his pocket and clumsily stuffed the fabric that clung to the bulky object, back into place.
She was stared down at him. Her eyes widened.
“Will...will you marry me?