Gumlee fanfic - Will they ever let us be happy?

Chapter 39

Gumball's POV:

By the time we finished packing everything up it was already early evening. It's not that there was an awful lot of things, it's just that we kept getting distracted. At one point, Marshall insisted on trying to remake every single one of his hairstyles that we came across while looking through the album. We somehow even ended up playing hide-and-seek. We're still playing it now. It's my turn to seek, and I can't find Marshall anywhere (probably because he's cheating and turned invisible). 

"Come on Marshall, where are you?" I call out. A second later he replies. 

"Pssst. I'm in the closet. Don't tell anyone." I shake my head, smiling, and walk over to the closet. As soon as I open the doors, he jumps forward, kissing me square on the mouth. I don't even have time to close my eyes before he pulls away. 

"And now I'm out." he says, as he floats toward his living room, picking up the boxes as he goes. I let out a short laugh and shake my head at his ridiculous sense of humor. I follow Marshall into the living room and flop myself down on his couch, regretting it almost immediately. I'd forgotten how hard it was. Marshall comes over and hovers just above me. 

"Can we sleep here tonight?" I say to him. He lifts his eyebrows questioningly. 

"You want to sleep here?" I nod. "You know, I've never really slept on that bed, it's probably really hard and it gets really cold at night and-

"Hey, if you don't want to its fine. We can just go back home." 

"No, no it's fine. It's just...no one else has ever slept over here. I just...i don't know. But it's fine. We can sleep here."

"Alright." I say. Marshall lies down on the couch, placing his head in my lap and letting his knees hang over the armrest. He's quiet for a moment, but then a smile creeps across his lips.

"So no baking today?"

I smile down at him. "I guess not." 

His arm wonders up and he places his hand on the back of my head, fiddling with my hair. I place my hand gently on his wrist and draw circles on it with my thumb.

"Can we have roses?" I ask Marshall. He looks up at me, puzzled. 

"At our... wedding." Every time I say the words our wedding my heart flutters. It's just so surreal.

"I was wondering if we could have roses..." As soon as I say it I feel as if it's a stupid question. 

"What would a wedding be without them? White would be pretty." 

"How did you know I liked white roses the most?" I ask, surprised.

"I've spent 3 years with you. It would be silly if I didn't know." I smile. 

"I thought you would have wanted red roses." 

"Nah, they remind me too much of funerals. Although I am practically dead so..." And then the doorbell rings. Me and Marshall simultaneously turn our heads towards the door. 

"I'll get it." Says Marshall, lifting up his body swiftly. I hear the door open, and I hear it slam shut, but Marshall doesn't walk back into the room.