I Like You, Let's Get Married!

Prologue

It was a boring class.

Michael Afton yawned as he walked down the campus corridor. The young man closed his eyes for a moment, not afraid of bumping into someone even though he was walking without looking. His hands were folded behind his head—as if turning them into pillows.

Still with the same monotonous week. There is no change in his daily activities at all. Boring.

Bruk.

What Michael wasn't worried about actually happened. His shoulder with someone else's shoulder collided accidentally. Michael gulped—the man he bumped into was unmistakable;

Taller than him.

Bigger than him.

Scarier than him (but since when was Michael scary?).

A pair of eyes as dark as the night were intimidating, looking him up and down intensely, as if looking for Michael's weak spot to hit—and Michael was self-aware that he was an easy target to bully (happy high school memories).

They just stood there silently, a few people staring at them—not forgetting the faint whispers Michael could hear.

Should he apologize? Michael felt beads of cold sweat fall from his forehead.

Of course.

The person he bumped into looked like a delinquent.

"U-uhm, sorry ..."

"Heh."

Michael blinked.

This man just snorted, then looked away, then walked without saying goodbye. How could he not want to hear Michael's apology?

"Idiot, I tried to be kind first, you know." Michael frowned and grumbled. Michael also looked back at the people who were looking at him and the man earlier—suggesting that they should go. No one ignored a short, messy brown-haired boy in oversized clothes, of course. The glasses he wears add to his geeky impression.

"Heyy Mikey~!" Someone suddenly hugged him from behind, so tightly that Michael was choking himself.

"Simon," Michael said back, slightly irritated.

It was Simon Abraham, his best friend since he was eleven years old, he is a bitch.

"How was your class, Mike?" Another man appeared from behind Simon.

This one is Alec Garfield, his other best friend since he was eleven too, he's quite a delight.

"Michael."

Mark Halbert.

A bastard.

Michael hated him.

But the four of them have actually been best friends since they were eleven (Michael admits he isn't very good at socializing to end up hanging out with the same people over the years).

"Your face is so wrinkled, was your class difficult?" Simon teased him, pressing his forehead which was still frowning at the man.

"Nothing," Michael replied irritably.

Alec smiled. "Is that true?" he asked to be sure—Alec looked a little worried.

Exhaling slowly, Michael nodded firmly. He waved his hand as a sign that he was fine. However, his three friends did know him more than he knew himself. Standing in front of him while looking curiously, waiting for an answer.

"Fine, fine." Michael threw his hands up in the air, giving up on not saying such a trivial thing. "Someone bumped into me," Michael grumbled, thinking of the man's cold face. "I was kind enough to apologize in advance, but he just walked away. Huh, annoying."

Alec looked very interested. "Oh? Really? Who?"

Michael shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know," he answered quietly. "A boy, taller than me—he looks haughty, he has a very unfriendly face. He has red hair, black eyes. He wears a gray jacket." Michael took a deep breath and sighed, remembering the man.

"Hmm, I don't remember having someone like that here?" Simon responded, he seemed to be deep in thought.

"There are quite a number of redheads on our campus." Alec mumbled incoherently after that, thinking which boy Michael was referring to.

Reluctantly, Michael looked at Mark, hoping he would know something. However, Mark was more focused on looking back. Michael raised an eyebrow, he wanted to ask what Mark was looking at but Mark told him to look behind him too. Michael did that, and so did his other two friends. Michael's blue eyes narrowed slightly;

The man he was referring to had appeared again, and if Michael had been overconfident, he would have felt ashamed to have thought the man had stepped in his direction and then the thought turned out to be wrong.

But he was right.

The person he didn't know stopped right in front of him.

Once again Michael gulped, he slowly looked up to see the still equally cold face (how tall is this guy anyway?!).

Very awkward silence. Michael exchanged glances with his friends, but they had no clue. Michael looked back, still with a flat expression even beyond the street in front of his house. No words—hell! Not even a smile! His gaze was starting to make Michael feel uncomfortable.

"Marry me."

What?

Michael blinked in surprise. He probably heard wrong, right? Michael looked at his three friends who were equally confused. Their hearing may suddenly deteriorate at the same time.

"... Pardon me?"

"I like you," the man said seriously. "Let's get married."

Michael's brain was trying to process.

Like? Like, love?

Marry?

Eh?

EHHHHH?