Te Iubsec...Forever.

6 Proposal

 I sat by the fire, looking at her. Franceska was exciting. I enjoyed my time with her, every damn minute of it. We talked for hours about everything. She was interested in everything, everything! When she left in the morning to go to work, I thought about her all day, no matter what I was doing. Sure, infatuation, but it was a lot more than that. She was inspiring. Just from our many quiet conversations, I could tell there was so much good in her.

She had a loneliness and an awkwardness about her that I couldn't figure out. How could she be single? She was young, successful, and so very attractive. That didn't make sense to me, but then again, so much about the world still didn't. Franceska had my attention from the first time I saw her. It was like I couldn't take my eyes off her. I honestly never did after tripping over my bags. But this, this vampire thing? This was madness. She didn't seem unhinged, not enough to forget her anyway. But what madness was this?

I felt a slight sense of calm return after she climbed off me. It could be a weird relationship test. We have all been through them at one time or another. If so, this was a doozie, and I had no idea how I was making out. A single thought blossomed momentarily. Months ago, I had been sitting in my den on a Saturday night with my laptop in an urban exploration chat room, looking at pictures of Eastern Europe. I was lonesome but getting used to it. I hadn't even decided to travel yet. And then here I was, in Romania, the Carpathians, firelight, folklore, and Franceska. I could hear the pop-Southern—drawl of Michael Stipe singing in my head.

"She's a sad tomato

She's three miles of bad road

She's her own invention (she's her own invention)

That gets me in the throat

What can I make myself be?

Life is strange, yeah (life is strange)

What can I make myself be? (fake her)

To make her mine?"

Yes, life is strange.

"Come, Nick, let's go to bed," she said, breaking my thoughts with a reassuring smile I had become so used to seeing.

I reached out my hand to her; it felt almost involuntary. I was beginning to calm down, and the instant our fingers touched, all the anxiety seemed to drain from me. She kissed me again, then whispered in my ear that she wanted me to hold her in my arms when we slept. It was sweet. I held her like that so many times in the past few months. Inside we clumsily undressed, and I slid into the sleeping bag behind her feeling her soft cool skin against mine. I lay behind her and pulled her close, pressing my body against her. She always let out a small moan of contentment. It was endearing before, always, but right then, I felt more curious than smitten.

"Ches, you are always so cold, your body."

I could feel her chest rise and fall with every breath.

"Yes, Nick, but you are warm and keep me warm."

She moaned again, this time with a long breath-filled sigh.

"Nick," she whispered after a few moments. My eyes had just become adjusted to the darkness by then, and the fire outside cast a dim orange glow in the tent.

"Yes, Ches."

"Nick, I want to tell you something," she continued to whisper.

"I'm listening."

"Nick, I have felt that I loved you since I saw you that night in Bucharest. My eyes were drawn to you; I could not look away. I needed to be with you, touch you, speak to you, and know your heart and soul; it was overwhelming."