My Lips On His

“I’ve loved you for what feels like my entire life but was too much of a coward.” Oliver looks down at our joined hands. We’re standing just outside the hospital, the winter storm coming down hard, but I don’t care.

“You’re not a coward,” I said. I place a finger on his chin, force our eyes to meet, and am surprised to find tears.

“We’ve wasted so much time,” Oliver’s voice cracks at the end.

“Marry me,” I blurt out.

Oliver’s eyes go wide, letting one of his precious tears escape. I follow it until it mingles with a bit of snow that landed on his cheek. It reminds me that it’s cold outside, but I feel warm. So warm. I lean down and catch the tear and the snow with my tongue. Oliver’s breath hitches. His hand comes up to cradle the back of my head, twining the long, thin fingers I’ve always admired through unruly curls.

“Peter,” he says.

“You just said we’ve wasted time. I love you. I know everything about you. Marry me.” I’ve never felt so sure about anything.

“Okay,” Oliver whispers. I pull my head up so fast I almost bump into his nose. My eyes snap to his. They’re brilliant.

“Okay?” My chest swells.

“Yes, let’s get married,” he says with a smile as bright as the world around us, and I think about how I never liked the snow before. When I lean forward this time, I place my lips on his.