The Proposal

Look into your heart

While sleeping, Gulf smacks his lips like a baby, and so movingly holds on to the edge of the pillow. Mew looks at him with a smile, quietly sitting next to him. He notices a wavy curl falling from his forehead, it's tip's touching his eyes. Mew only wants to remove it unnoticed. He stretches his palm, almost without breathing, and…

"Damn!.. It hurts!" he screams from the blow that falls on his cheekbone: abruptly opening his eyes, Gulf jumps up in fright on the bed and touches Mew's face with his broad forehead.

"Why are you clinging to me?! I didn't understand at all who was above me!.."

Mew rubs the place of the blow, his face still contorted with pain. Gulf bites his lips and frowns.

"It hurts, doesn't it? I didn't do it on purpose," he moves closer, "let me see."

What Mew definitely doesn't expect is that Gulf's palm will be on his cheek right now. And also such an unusual anxiety in his eyes and... a sense of guilt?

"You have a bruise... cold! We need something cold!"

He pulls his hand away, and Mew thinks with annoyance that instead of the cold, he would not like to lose the warmth of this palm right now.

"Why are you sitting down again?! Run to the refrigerator! I still don't want you to have a bruised face in the wedding photo tomorrow. Then Nanchai will be definitely convinced that I forced you to marry me."

The cold ice helped, but not completely. A small bruise still remained. For Mom and Jom, they had to quickly concoct a legend about "slipped in the bathroom."

"Well, groom," Jom shakes her head reproachfully. "Okay, I'll make up you tomorrow before the ceremony. So, today we have a very busy schedule. Get ready!"

During the day, they have time to try on the tuxedos that have finally arrived, listen with half an ear to information from Jom about the festive menu, decorations, seating of guests. They go to a place that is no less picturesque than at a photo shoot, although there is more shade here because of the surrounding trees and some kind of mystery.

And finally, the evening comes, for which the restless Mew's sister has planned a "bachelor party" in karaoke.

"You don't mind that I invited your friends, do you?" Jom flaps her doll-like eyes.

"Um… But Gulf and I will be together, right? He doesn't know anyone here."

"Of course, Mew. I can't take him away and have one last bachelor party alone."

Mmm... great, sis. I've already chosen a song for us.

Among noisy Mew's friends Gulf is lost. The answers to all questions come down to "yes", "no", "maybe". It is not the first time his personal assistant has observed such departures of Gulf into himself. But he already knows how to "shake" him.

"Well? Shall we check your vocal skills?" Mew winks at him, getting up from the table and taking Gulf's hand.

"Are you kidding? I am not going to sing," Gulf pulls his hand away, but Mew gently wraps it in his again.

"Why are you so scared? Let's sing together."

"No."

"Are you afraid to completely fade away today against my background?" Mew grins. "Don't worry. I'm going to make a mistake on a couple of notes on purpose."

He understands that this is manipulation. But — damn it — sometimes it's just impossible to find other ways to influence his boss. Well, or he didn't try everything.

"Okay," Gulf purses his lips angrily, "let it be. I'll spoil your finest hour with my poor performance!"

Mew giggles, leading him to the stage.